Alternate Universe
by Side Quest Publications
Summary: In which Rip Hunter explains why it is so important that Snart stay on the mission, by showing him what would have happened if he hadn't joined the Legends... and Zoom took notice of him instead. Alternate History, for obvious reasons. Much OOC, for not-so-obvious reasons.
1. Framing Story

**The original version of this story was entirely an alternate universe/history, a Flash fanfiction, in which Zoom took notice of Snart. The circumstances of that alternate history result in some OOC moments, as I deem them relevant to the plot. (I don't usually do that, so bear with me.)**

 **This slightly modified version is technically a Legends of Tomorrow/Flash crossover, in which Rip Hunter _shows_ Snart what would have happened if he left the team prematurely or was never recruited. Thus the framing story here.**

 **The title, "Alternate Universe," is because of both the alternate circumstances that separate this story from canon... and because of Zoom and a certain meta-human assassin's origins from another Earth.**

 **Legends team members copyright to DC, CW, etc.  
Majummed copyright to me.  
**

* * *

"I'm afraid I haven't been very honest about why I've recruited you," Rip admitted.

"Shocker," Leonard muttered. "First, you tell us we're to be... 'heroes.'" He fairly sneered the word. "Then, we're nothing; if something goes wrong on your mission, and we don't make it back, our absence won't change the future. So what fresh lie are you going to feed me this time?"

"Er..." Rip hesitated. "See, um... Well, we've seen how difficult it can be to change the future. That time wants to happen. But I've found, sometimes, that removing an individual from the time stream, _displacing_ them a little, can make an unexpected difference."

"Is there a point to all this?"

"Well..."

—ALTERNATE UNIVERSE—

"Leonard? What the hell are you doing? Let go of him!" Sara raced into Rip's quarters and tried to drag Leonard away from the captain, whom he was presently trying to strangle.

Mick waded into the fight and bodily picked up his partner. "I'm all for killing Rip," he said, "but shouldn't we be drawing straws or something?"

"Okay, _what_ did you do to piss him off?" Sara asked Rip once Leonard was pulled off.

"Me?" Rip panted. "Why do... you assume... it's _my_ fault?"

"Because it's clearly safer than blaming Mr. Snart?" Martin suggested from the doorway. He shrugged. "Face it, you're a lot less likely to pull a gun over it."

"He threatened Lisa!" Leonard growled, his face twisted into uncharacteristic rage. "He said if I didn't do what I was told—"

"You have a perfect memory," Rip snapped. "If you'd _use_ it, you'd realize that is _not_ what I said!"

"So what _did_ you say?" Sara asked.

"I said... I said if he wanted to protect his sister, he needed to stay on this ship. Stay on the mission."

Sara rolled her eyes. "Uh- _huh_. Hardened criminal, a little too much experience doing things he doesn't want just to keep her safe, and... you _didn't_ expect him to find that remark threatening. To maybe hear it the same way he's heard it from the rodent he calls a father."

"You'd better explain yourself, Captain," Mick said from where he was struggling to hold Leonard in the corner. "'Cause I'm about to let go."

Rip threw his hands in the air. "If all of you would _let_ me explain..." Several pairs of eyes watched him expectantly. Most of the crew had joined Martin in the door to watch the show. "Fine. Like I... _began_ to explain to Mr. Snart, I wasn't entirely truthful about why I recruited the lot of you."

"Yeah, you told us we were supposed to be heroes," Kendra said.

"And then you said we'd have no impact on history," Martin added. "So what _is_ the truth?"

"Well, that second one is technically true for some of you," Rip admitted. "That is, that you have no impact on the future _I'm_ familiar with. If we change the timeline, that, too, would change."

Mick loosened his hold on Leonard just a little. Just enough to suggest a threat if Rip didn't hurry up and finish explaining.

"But in Mr. Snart's case..." Rip added quickly. "Mr. Snart has a rather... impressive influence on the timeline, in any version of events in which he is back in his own time. The exact same influence his sister has within _this_ timeline." He took a deep breath and forced himself to meet Leonard's eyes. "I'm sorry, Mr. Snart. I should have told you this before, when you and Mr. Rory demanded to use the jump ship. Hell, I _should've_ told you back when I recruited you. But I've done extensive research on all of your timelines and this one—the one in which you remain here—this is the only one in which your sister has that influence."

"What happens to her in the other timelines?" Martin asked.

"A metahuman," Rip muttered. "I believe you and Mr. Jackson know him as Zoom."

"Zoom?" Mick repeated. "Sounds familiar."

"Another speed-freak," Leonard said. He shrugged Mick off, without ever once breaking eye contact with Rip. "Broke the Flash, took him out of commission for a while."

"Oh. _That_ freak."

"So what's supposed to happen?" Leonard asked. "Zoom thinks he can recruit me to help him against the Flash, and Lisa's left out in the cold?" He smirked. "I don't mind _sharing_ credit with Lisa if that's what you're worried about."

"Hardly," Rip said. "Zoom knows about your arrangement with the Flash. He knows the Flash worked hard to save your sister's life when your own father was prepared to kill her. And he knows that when the Weather Wizard broke you and the Trickster out of prison, you chose to warn the Flash against them. He does _not_ try to recruit you. If you show up in that time again, he decides you're a problem to eliminate, and he recruits Majummed—" he gave Sara a significant look as Leonard began trembling uncontrollably "—a metahuman from his own world, to kill you."

" _That's_ a stupid name," Mick said.

"That's a _League_ name," Sara replied.

"Correct," Rip said. "He's from the League of Shadows, what we would call the League of Assassins. And I dare say they've never known a more sadistic bastard."

"But... but what does this have to do with Lisa?" Leonard whispered.

"Gideon, would you please play the footage?" Rip asked.

—ALTERNATE UNIVERSE—

Two shadows met in the darkness.

"You may destroy him however you like," one of the shadows was saying in Zoom's rasping voice. "But bring the Flash to me, alive and _unharmed_."

The other shadow, wearing garb similar to the League of Assassins, bowed in reply. "As you command." The assassin hesitated. "Might I... consider other contracts as well? Things have become rather dull at home since you took charge, but surely this world has not met an assassin of my skill."

Zoom nodded. "As you like. Just do not let your entertainment interfere with _my_ contract. Do not fail me, Majummed, or what happened to your sister will be _nothing_ to my wrath."

"As you command," the assassin repeated in a slightly shaky voice. Then he spun on his heel and left.

* * *

 **Technically, this story is still meant to be entirely alternate universe, with no—relevant—connection to my other fics, let alone to canon.**  
 **However, Snart's reaction to the name Majummed (and Sara and Rip noticing said reaction as the rest of the team— _Snart included_ —does not) does tie it somewhat vaguely to one of my other fics-in-progress...**

 **As to Snart's "perfect memory," it has been suggested on assorted character pages that the CW's rendition of Snart may have eidetic memory. I'm sure I don't use that _quite_ accurately within my fics, but I do allude to it now and again.**

 **Timing... is questionable.  
Technically there is no place in canon where there's actually _time_ to have this discussion (let alone after Mick and Snart demanded to take the jumpship late-season, which demand you'll note Rip very specifically refers to here), another detail that makes this an alternate universe.  
But the way I figure it, for this to work, Rip would have to pull an "oh good you're still here" moment immediately after Martin sent Jefferson off in the jump ship (because, "oh crap I should've told him this instead of letting him leave")... and Ray Palmer is currently holding the idiot ball as he goes round and round against Vandal Savage.**

 **Edited to modify naming in narrative... and similar reasons.**


	2. Birthday Wishes

**In which Leonard and Lisa Snart are being uncharacteristically silly in private.  
Well, silly for them, anyway.**

 **Leonard and Lisa Snart copyright to DC, CW, etc.  
**

* * *

"Hey," Leonard Snart said as he walked through the back door into the kitchen. He bent over to kiss Lisa on the cheek. "Happy birthday, sis."

Lisa scoffed. "If you really want me to have a happy birthday, maybe you should start saying that _on_ my birthday," she retorted, but there was no anger in her voice. She glared in the direction of the door. " _And_ use the key I gave you instead of picking the lock. For once in your life."

"Nah, keeps me in practice."

"And me investing in security," Lisa muttered. "At least you didn't break it this time."

"I've told you fifty-seven times already, that was _Mick_."

Lisa shook her head, but she didn't even need to see her brother's face to know there was no shame there. "Fine, so what did you get me this time?"

"Close your eyes," Leonard replied. "Go on."

Lisa rolled her eyes before obeying and letting him guide her out of the kitchen. He could be such a kid sometimes! But he was rarely relaxed enough to let anyone see it; she didn't think even Mick knew how immature her big brother really was.

They stopped right on the edge of the living room carpet. Lisa snuck a peek, saw that his back was still to her, and stuck out her tongue.

"It might be easier to see," Leonard said in a drier tone than usual, "if you opened your eyes _all_ the way."

Lisa's grin faded when she saw what lay on her coffee table. "No, no, you are _not_ giving me... you'd better be fencing that."

Leonard shook his head. "Too high-profile. The only fences greedy enough to take it would turn me in the moment I looked away."

Lisa took a cautious step towards the... thing. She knew she was being ridiculous—it was just a rock—but she didn't even want to be in the same room with it. "It's not... not cultural?" She shook her head. "A museum piece?"

Leonard waggled one hand in the universal sign for "so-so." "I swiped it from a museum."

Lisa sighed. He was going to insist on playing his games... "Okay, will you quit acting so damn smug already and tell me why you think I need this ugly-ass thing?"

"The reward for its safe return," Leonard replied, "is over twenty-five grand."

Lisa's eyebrows shot up. Leonard occasionally made off with more than that on his more dangerous heists, but usually when he was working with a crew he'd have to share with. Never as a _reward_. And for this... thing? "It's true what they say; there's just no accounting for taste."

"I can't argue with that."

"So, what are we doing with the money this time?"

Leonard frowned. "Have you got a list? We already hit BACA six days ago..."

"What about the ManKind Project? You know nobody would expect _you_ to be interested in them." She shivered and rubbed her arms. The house was getting really cold. Or maybe it was just how creepy and ugly that thing was.

"No... I know, I know you're right. But we've sent them almost a million dollars just in the last two months; I keep feeling like someone's going to get suspicious if—" He started shivering under his parka, and his frown deepened. "Did your furnace go out?"

Lisa opened her mouth to answer, but didn't make a sound. She cocked her head to listen for the telltale rumble. "No, I... _think_ it's running." But the house was entirely too cold, if even Leonard was feeling it. "Give me a minute. Maybe the pilot light went out."

"Need any help?"

Lisa mirrored her brother's usual smirk. "You're sweet, Lenny, and I love you, and you're one of the most brilliant people I know—"

"Only _one_ of...?" he protested.

"—but the day I need Captain _Cold's_ help to fix my _furnace_ is the day we both give up on the heists and get real jobs."

"God forbid."

"Exactly. This will just take a minute, so make yourself at home." Lisa grimaced. "Er... not _too_ much at home; I don't want the place looking like another of your rat-infested condemned warehouses."

Leonard grumbled under his breath, but didn't rise to the bait.

* * *

 **I... _might_ have been reading one of those "Make a Wish" supervillain stories. :) Though Len has a more pragmatic reason (next chapter) for donating his loot to charity, assuming we believe that he's telling the truth and not merely trying to salvage his reputation.  
But I figured BACA (Bikers Against Child Abuse) at least makes a little bit of sense as a charity option, if Len was the type to donate to charity, one he might've considered joining himself if he was so inclined. I picked ManKind Project because Len's actor Wentworth Miller is active in the organization, and because Len doesn't want anyone getting suspicious if the same organization keeps getting the reward money from things he's stolen.  
**

 **I have no idea what the item is that Len stole—it has zero plot relevance beyond being "the thing he stole," so I didn't even bother trying to describe it—but apparently everybody agrees it's super ugly and creepy.**

 **Edited for naming in narrative and similar reasons.**


	3. Teasing Team

**In which I (temporarily) abandon my plans to stick with the "alternate universe" and have the Legends team tease Len about his charitable contributions, and he explains the completely pragmatic reasons for those contributions.  
Question is, do any of us _believe_ his explanation? ;)  
**

 **Legends team copyright to DC, CW, etc.  
Unnamed thrift store owner and gang members copyright to me... because I might use them again if I decide to write out my version of Len's childhood in assorted random short fics; I didn't do that here because his attempt to justify his actions (while salvaging his "evil" reputation) was more relevant to the scene than how things actually went down, but some day, maybe?  
**

* * *

Several pairs of eyes stared at Leonard.

"The cold-blooded killer has a heart of _gold_?" Sara finally said.

"He couldn't," Kendra replied. "He'd have figured out a way to steal it for money a long time ago."

"And give the money to BACA?" Mick suggested. He gave Leonard a perplexed look. "What _is_ BACA, anyway? Doesn't that mean 'idiot' or something?"

"Hmm, no," Martin replied. "In that context, I think—"

"Would any of you _like_ me to explain," Leonard interrupted in his usual dry tone, "or are you too busy having fun at my expense?"

"Okay, fine," Sara said. "We're listening. Why would an emotionless thief donate money to charity?"

"Charities," Martin corrected. "And so _much_ money at that."

"Because," Leonard replied, "when my dad got out of prison, he went right back to stealing. Sometimes... _most_ of the time... he got greedy, stole as much as he could. And sometimes, that meant stealing things he couldn't fence."

"Because they weren't worth anything?" Kendra suggested.

"Because they were distinctive. Easily recognized. You didn't need a memory like mine to know on sight that they were stolen, and it would cost far more to disguise them than what any fence could get from selling them."

"So you just gave them to _charity_?" Mick said.

Leonard shook his head. "The first time my dad messed up like that, he took a necklace some store had loaned out, figured out he couldn't fence it, and sent _me_ across town to get rid of it. He didn't care how I did it, as long as it couldn't be traced back to him. I spent that whole day looking for pawn shops—I was new to getting rid of evidence, so it never occurred to me to merely dump it down a gutter somewhere—but nobody would take it. Three of them threatened to call the cops on me if I didn't leave, so I left... _quickly_."

"Do you really think they would've arrested you?" Rip asked. "How old were you when this happened?"

"Does it matter? If the cops found me with that necklace, it would have been short work to trace it to my dad. He would've punished me for getting him in trouble."

Rip winced at the remark, and wished briefly that Leonard would show _some_ emotion when something bothered him. This mild acceptance of being "punished" for his father's crimes...

"I spent the rest of the afternoon watching for the cops," Leonard continued, either not noticing or not caring how much he'd disturbed Rip. "I was tired, I was hungry, and I'd spent most of my money just to ride the bus across town; I barely had enough to get back home. At that point, getting rid of the necklace so I _could_ catch the bus before my dad locked me out again was more important than getting any money for it. So when I found a thrift store that was closing for the night, I figured it couldn't be any worse than the pawn shops."

"A... thrift store," Mick repeated. "You took it... to a _thrift store_."

"Yes, they accept donated goods and—" Martin began.

"I know what a thrift store is."

Leonard waited until the two were done bickering before he continued. "Yes, a thrift store. The clerk told me she couldn't pay for the necklace—like the professor said, they only accept donations—but she didn't ask me any questions, just left it in a pile to sort through in the morning... and then she bought me dinner." He half-smiled at the memory.

"And then you developed a crush on her," Sara guessed. Kendra chuckled.

"I was eight. I didn't know the meaning of the word."

"You don't need to know what a crush is," Kendra said, "to have one."

Leonard shrugged, but refused to comment further. "It wasn't the last time my father made that mistake, and it wasn't the last time I visited that shop. I started taking Lisa with me, and we'd go there even if we didn't have anything to get rid of; it was the easiest way to avoid my father when he started drinking early, or when his 'friends' from prison paid him a visit." His eyes took on a haunted look, and he had to force himself to shake off some particularly unpleasant memory.

Sara, suspecting what had caused that look, deliberately avoided his gaze, knowing he would never appreciate her pity. Rip, she noticed, did the same, though the rest of the team didn't seem to be aware of Leonard's brief struggle.

"Some days," Leonard continued once he regained control a few seconds later, "my father would spend all his money at the bar, and there was nothing for Lisa or me to eat until this woman fed us. After he went back to prison, we continued to see her every week, right up until my grandfather took us to live with him."

"Hold on a moment," Mick interrupted. "Is this the same woman you told off the boss about?"

"Yes," Leonard replied. "That was the first time I'd seen her since moving in with my grandfather."

"What are you talking about?" Sara asked.

"After Juvie, Len and me ran in a gang for a while," Mick explained. "There's this one time the boss decided he'd try a protection racket, force people to give us money in exchange for protecting them from rival gangs. He got a little violent when some of them refused. Nothing serious, but it was enough to show people what they could expect if they _didn't_ buy him off. But this one..." He nodded at Leonard. "Boss tried it on this one woman, and Len told her to go back inside and lock the door. He stood in the doorway, wouldn't let anyone near her. When the boss pulled a gun on him... well, most people would've been pissing themselves at that point, but this shrimp was cool as ever, wouldn't budge for anything."

"That's because I was too _scared_ to move," Leonard muttered.

"Good thing _he_ didn't know that," Mick replied with a laugh. "Boss was so impressed Len had the balls to stand up to him, he told the gang to leave the woman alone and head back to our hidey-hole."

"Hold on, you... stood up to your boss," Rip said. "Defied him. In a _gang_. Even after he threatened you?" Leonard nodded. "I'm sorry, but... maybe gangs worked differently in your time than in mine, so feel free to correct me. Doesn't his power depend on people being _afraid_ of him? When you defied him, you showed him—showed your _gang_ —that you weren't afraid; you took away some of his power. How did you get away with that without any consequences?"

"There were consequences," Leonard said. "No sooner did we reach the hideout when the boss gave Mick a crowbar and told him to get to it."

Rip blanched. "You didn't... actually..." he said to Mick.

"You just said you knew something about gangs," Mick replied. "About defying the boss's orders. What do _you_ think I did?" Rip paled even more.

"I don't understand," Martin said. "Why exactly would Mr. Rory need a crowbar to... oh dear god, _now_ I understand."

"To show how impressed he was," Leonard explained, "the boss said he was doing me a favor, letting _Mick_ deliver the beating."

"I suppose in his mind he thought he was," Rip whispered.

"A _favor_?" Kendra repeated. "How the hell is making your best friend beat you—with a crowbar—doing you any kind of _favor_?"

"It didn't much feel like a favor at the time," Leonard admitted. "But the boss wanted someone who would try _not_ to cause any real damage; I only got three cracked ribs out of the deal before he decided I'd learned my lesson, instead of the broken skull the rest of the gang thought I'd earned."

"All that for a clerk at a thrift shop," Martin said. "That must have been _quite_ the infatuation."

"Et tu, professor?" Leonard asked.

"I don't mean it like that," Martin replied. "It's just that, as you brilliant as you are, I imagine you could've become anything you put your mind to. But your father had so much influence that you and your sister grew up to be... well, I suppose the most _polite_ thing to call you is a professional criminal. I do hope you'll forgive me for expressing doubt that this woman's simple act of kindness could compel you to... to regularly donate so much of your ill-gotten loot to charity. Particularly since you would've had to defy your father's wishes to do so."

"Perhaps he did it _because_ he was defying his father," Rip suggested.

"It wasn't her kindness," Leonard told Martin. "It wasn't—" he glared at the two women "—an infatuation." He glanced up at Rip. "It _might've_ been a little bit of defiance. But mostly, it was how she got rid of the necklace."

"How's that?" Sara asked.

"She told the cops she found it in the mail slot when she opened up the next morning. Figured someone had taken something they shouldn't have, felt guilty about it, but was too scared to admit it." He shrugged. "Two out of three isn't bad, I suppose. There were no security cameras, so the cops couldn't find out who left it there. But she collected a reward for the safe return of that necklace; most of the money went into one of the shop's charities, and she kept out the rest for regular maintenance, for jobs, and for security upgrades."

"And you kept going back, even after she upgraded security?" Kendra asked. "How'd you avoid getting caught?"

"She never made those upgrades," Leonard replied. "She used that extra money to buy Lisa and me a bus pass and an open tab at one of the local diners. And sometimes, she had a few other treats waiting for us." He smirked. "I've been working with her ever since. Any time I had to get rid of something in a hurry, I trusted her to take care of it. But I never wanted to get her into trouble, so when she started asking what _we_ wanted to do with that money, Lisa and I agreed that letting her continue to donate it to charity was the safest option."

"So you've been giving your loot away to BACA," Mick said. "Which is... what was it, again?"

"It stands for Bikers Against Child Abuse," Martin replied. "Imagine a bunch of big, tough guys hanging around children, thoroughly intimidating anyone who would dare lay a hand on them, and... well, it's not _exactly_ what they do, but it comes close."

Mick grunted. "Okay, yeah, that one sounds like Len."

"Indeed," Martin agreed. "I'm surprised he never joined them himself. The only thing he's missing is his own motorcycle."

"No license," Leonard corrected. "Now if we're done with story hour, would someone care to explain what this speed freak has to do with my sister?"

"Er... right," Rip muttered. "Gideon, if you would please continue?"

"Yes, Captain."

* * *

 **Well _that_ escalated quickly.  
Apparently I am incapable of giving my favorite characters a single happy memory without finding some way to make things even more screwed up than they are in canon.  
And canon, sometimes, is plenty screwed up as it is.  
**

 **As mentioned up top, I wasn't planning to do another scene on the Waverider until I finished the whole thing off and ended with the framing story, but I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease the cold-blooded criminal over his charitable contributions. Though poor Mick seems to be having the hardest time wrapping his head around the idea.**

 **And one update: _totally_ forgot Len was riding a motorcycle in a couple of episodes in season one. So maybe he's just getting annoyed at "story hour" and is trying to get back on topic? :)**

 **Edited for naming in the narrative and similar reasons.**


	4. Assassin

**In which we return to the alternate version of events that is Len (et cetera) still being in Central City instead of joining the Legends team.  
And we kinda-sorta reveal the identity of my assassin ("kinda sorta" because Len is kinda-sorta confused due to oncoming hypothermia and isn't sure he'd seen who-or what-he thought he'd seen). Though if you're keeping up on my deviantArt account and saw either the original premise of this story back when it was in the "not yet begun" status, or read Majummed's character bio, you'll have already seen that identity.  
**

 **Leonard and Lisa Snart copyright to DC, CW, etc.  
Majummed (of Earth Two) copyright to me.  
**

* * *

The "minute" lasted for nine and a half—Lisa was probably calling some third-rate repairman she could badger into keeping quiet—before Leonard realized he'd been nodding off for the last eight. He stretched out on the sofa and decided to sneak in a quick cat-nap before she caught him with his boots on the furniture.

" _Lenny!_ "

Leonard sprang to his feet, knocking over the coffee table in the process. He bent to set it upright—it was blocking the shortest path to Lisa—when she screamed again.

" _Len_ —" the cry was cut off with a _thump_ and a _thud_.

"Screw it," he muttered, and he snatched up his gun and jumped over the toppled furniture.

Leonard squeezed past the open cellar door—noting with a curious detachment that the hinges were frozen solid—and raced down the stairs to where Lisa should be.

And he promptly lost his footing on the icy surface. Only a quick twist and a grab for the railing saved him from breaking his neck, but the landing jarred his knee painfully.

Leonard limped over to where his sister lay in a crumpled heap, before finally allowing himself to drop to the floor next to her when crouching proved too painful for his knee. "Lis... Lisa?" Her skin felt like ice... but he could see her breath clouding in front of her. He wanted to pick her up, carry her someplace warmer, but he knew better than to move her without knowing if she was injured. He settled for shrugging out of his parka—ignoring the instinct that screamed he _should not_ be feeling warm!—and covering her with it before he made a fumbled search for her phone.

"Hello? Please, it... it's my neighbor," he said, deliberately stuttering and stumbling over his words. He didn't need to fake the panic that threatened to choke him. "She... she's hurt. I think she might... I think she fell down the stairs? Please, she's so cold..."

Leonard barely listened as the 911 operator calmly tried to reassure him and explain what to do while he waited for an ambulance; he was too busy examining his surroundings to pay heed to anything so mundane. Whatever had befallen Lisa was not the result of a fall; no, his instincts told him there was danger here, something to do with this bizarre chill. He had to get her away... but if she _was_ injured...

The shivering that wracked him had nothing to do with the cold. He didn't dare move her, not without knowing what had happened to her. Even a minor injury could become serious if he moved her without proper precautions. But if he left her to the cold—

"Zoom told me you'd lost your edge," a voice said from the corner, interrupting his thoughts. "I didn't believe him."

Leonard leaped to his feet, wobbling a bit as his hurt knee threatened to give way under him. The phone cracked on the floor, forgotten. He could still faintly hear the operator trying to talk to him.

"Who are you?" Leonard snarled. "What do you want?"

"I'm looking for a challenge," the figure in League robes answered him. "I'd hoped you could give me that before I killed you, but you can't even protect your sister. Such a waste."

Leonard's eyes flashed, and he snatched up his cold gun and shot it at full power.

The ice never even reached the assassin before it vanished. "Really?" the assassin said. He gestured at the frozen room around them. "You attack me with _ice_?"

The voice on the other end of the phone spoke up again. Leonard ignored it, but the other man seemed distracted. "That's irritating," the assassin said. The phone promptly froze solid and thawed in quick succession until it crackled and died.

Leonard dropped the cold gun and pulled a revolver from his belt, firing off four rounds in quick succession while the assassin was distracted.

The gun froze in his hand, a cold that burned him even through his thick glove, forcing him to drop the weapon with a hiss at the pain before he could pull the trigger for the fifth time.

His eyes widened when he took in the scene before him: the four bullets had slammed into a thin wall of ice, the air itself frozen solid around them, and there they remained, mere inches from penetrating the enemy in some particularly vital areas.

And that enemy hadn't even tried to avoid them. "You _have_ lost your edge," the assassin said, his voice thick with disgust. "At least one of those should've hit before I could react. Do I need to make it easy for you?"

And all of the ice simply melted.

The room was colder than ever—Lisa's breath clouding around her face, and the blue tint spreading along her skin, told Leonard that as his own uncomfortably hot skin no longer could—but the ice was gone. He launched himself at the man, made a grab for his hooded face... and nearly lost consciousness when the man kicked him hard in his injured knee.

Leonard fought to remain conscious; he didn't care that it was a losing battle, he _had_ to keep fighting. For Lisa. He had to protect Lisa.

Even sitting upright was a struggle. Spears of ice jabbed into him every time he moved, many sharp enough to tear through his jeans and draw blood as he passed by them. Sharp enough, he suspected, to slice through muscle; the care to avoid any serious injury forced him to move far slower than he liked.

By the time Leonard had twisted around enough to find his enemy, the assassin was already crouching over Lisa, his back to Leonard and his hood fallen to the side to reveal nothing more distinctive than a shaven head. "No!" Leonard cried. "Leave her be!"

"She's only sleeping," the man said. "She'll waken when I allow her to."

"Don't hurt her," Leonard pleaded. "If you want to kill me, then kill me. But please don't hurt Lisa."

"I would never hurt her," the man said gently. He cradled the unconscious Lisa in his arms, allowing the parka to fall forgotten to the floor, and he turned around to face Leonard.

Leonard recoiled from the sight as much as his icy prison permitted. He blinked, tried to shake his head... the cold was fogging his mind, he couldn't be seeing this... could he...? "But you... you're... You can't be..."

"You?" the man suggested. He grinned. "Not exactly."

* * *

 **This chapter also gives the first of my attempts to be somewhat accurate, medically speaking, though I'm sure I'll be inaccurate in other parts of the story.**  
 **One, Len is so cold that hypothermia is kicking in... seriously enough that he's actually feeling _hot_ (leading in real life to a situation known as "paradoxical undressing" in which the cold victim feels so uncomfortably warm that they actually start removing clothing; here Len knows enough not to give in to this urge no matter how warm he thinks he is and he only removed his parka so that he can try to keep Lisa warm).**  
 **And two, when someone is badly injured it can be _very dangerous_ to move them if you don't know what you're dealing with-even turning her to a more comfortable position can be bad-unless of course you're moving them from an even more dangerous situation; in this case, Len simply doesn't know what happened (yet) so while he feels there is danger present, he doesn't know if it's dangerous enough to move Lisa elsewhere, particularly since he doesn't (yet) know if she's injured.**

 **Edited for naming in narrative and similar reasons.**


	5. Star Labs

**In which Team Flash finally makes an appearance as they discover that Len is in trouble.  
And Cisco proves that he hasn't forgiven Len for kidnapping him and his brother in season one, and is taking the idea of Len needing their help less than seriously.  
**

 **Remember in the previous chapter, when Len was _deliberately_ stumbling over his words for effect when he called 911 about his "neighbor's" emergency?  
He ain't faking this time.**

 **And still no idea what Len swiped from the museum, but apparently everyone agrees it's ugly. :)**

 **All included characters copyright to DC, CW, etc.  
Majummed (mentioned) copyright to me.**

* * *

At Star Labs, Team Flash was busy dealing with the world of the mundane.

"Anything yet?" Barry asked.

"I'll give you the same answer I did five minutes ago," Cisco replied, "and ten minutes before that. And before that. The same answer I've _been_ giving for the last five days. _No_ , I have not found anything. No, it has not turned up at the pawn shops or any of Snart's usual fences. Not even after the museum posted a reward this afternoon." He shook his head. "Seriously, the guy's probably just embarrassed he took that ugly-ass thing. I say we let him keep it; looking at it has got to be a worse punishment than anything the police could give him."

" _Cisco_!" Caitlin snapped. "The exhibit's in two more days. Just because _some_ people don't appreciate cultural studies..."

Jefferson rolled his eyes. "Cultural, my—"

Barry's phone rang, cutting off whatever Jefferson was about to say. Barry frowned—caller ID unavailable?—before he answered. "Hello?" The other end crackled several times. "Hello, who is this?"

"Please... I need..." a voice gasped. "Need help."

 _Weird_ , Barry thought. That voice almost sounded like... "Snart? Wait, _Snart_? How did you get my number?"

The team froze at their various stations. Even Jay and Harry ducked their heads in, curious about this new development.

"Pl... please, Barry. Some... some meta... freak... League ro—robes... took... he took her. I can't... Please..." Barry could hear Leonard gulping for air. "ohgod _no_!"

There was a sharp _crack_! on the other end. The phone continued to crackle, but Leonard's voice was gone.

"Snart? What's happening? Snart!"

"What is it?" Martin asked. "What's wrong?'

"I think Snart's in trouble," Barry replied in a shaky voice. "Can you trace the call, Cisco?"

"Snart?" Jefferson repeated. "You mean the crook with the freeze ray, right?"

"Cold gun," Cisco corrected irritably. "And why do we suddenly care about helping Captain Cold?"

"Come _on_ , Cisco!" Barry protested. "Somebody's after him, some metahuman in League robes I think he said. I don't know, exactly, but he sounded really scared!"

"Really?" Cisco muttered. "Sounds like I've got a new best friend out there somewhere." He looked at the group staring at him. "What? Enemy of my enemy is my friend, right? Anybody who can scare that asshole has got to be worth making friends with."

"A metahuman," Harry repeated. "In _League_ robes. That's what he said?"

"That's what it sounded like," Barry said. "I don't know, it was kind of broken up, but I'm sure that's what he said."

"Majummed?" Harry muttered. The look he shared with Jay was full of fear.

"Possibly," Jay replied.

"Okay, new bestie needs a new name," Cisco said.

"Trace the call, Ramon," Harry ordered.

Cisco merely glanced at him with a quirked eyebrow. "Say what?"

"You said it yourself," Harry said. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend. And if that is Majummed hunting out there... trust me, that one is _nobody's_ friend. So trace the call. _Now_!"

Cisco shook his head and turned back to his computer to comply.

"Who's this... Majummed?" Martin asked.

"If their friend is lucky, _not_ whoever's chasing him out there," Jay replied.

"He's not our friend," Cisco said under his breath.

"He's a metahuman from my world," Jay continued, ignoring Cisco's remarks. "A member of the League of Shadows... what you would call the League of Assassins. He was deadly even before the particle accelerator explosion, and especially sadistic about it, but now?" He shrugged and turned to Barry. "You'd better pray he isn't working for Zoom, because you won't stand a chance against him. And neither will your friend."

"Not. Our. Friend," Cisco repeated. "Okay, got it. The call came from—"

But Barry had seen the location on the screen and was already gone.

It took less than thirty seconds to reach the location. "He's not here!" Barry said over his radio.

"What, he's got to be," Cisco replied. He peered at the screen. "Trace says you should be right on top of him. Or... damn, if he threw out the phone."

"Yeah, that's what he did," Barry said. "Hang on, I think I see..." There was a long pause. "I think I can find him," he continued, his voice shaken.

"What's wrong?" Caitlin asked. "What did you see?"

"Blood," Barry replied. "There's a trail of blood here." Another long pause. "A _lot_ of blood."

A few minutes of silence passed.

Detective Joe West ran into the room. "Don't anyone answer your phones," he grumbled. "Anybody know where Snart is?"

"Yeah, Barry's tracking him right now," Jefferson replied.

"Really? That's fast, even for him," the detective said. "I only heard about the break-in three minutes ago. When did Barr—"

"Break-in?" Cisco interrupted. "What break-in?"

"There was a call about an hour ago to 911," Joe said. "Something about a woman falling down the stairs. Operator said she heard fighting over the phone, so she sent the police to check it out. There was nobody there, but the place looks like Snart's MO; everything's covered in ice, and the squad couldn't even shut the front door to block it from public view because the hinges were frozen solid."

"Are you sure that this _Snart_ had been there?" Harry asked. "Are you _absolutely_ certain?"

"Squad found his parka," Joe replied. "Well, they think it's his; they're going to check for DNA on it. And they found that damn-ugly exhibit he stole." He frowned as he took in the team's variously horrified expressions. "Hold on, if that isn't why Barry's looking for Snart... What's going on?"

* * *

 **Edited for naming in narrative, and also because I kept screwing up Jefferson Jackson-I keep forgetting which name is his first name and which the surname for some stupid reason.  
And because, sometimes, I notice other errors I missed the first time around. (Seriously, "Barry's phone ring"?)  
**


	6. Frenemies

**In which Barry suspects a trap, but discovers the reality is far worse than he imagined.**

 **Majummed copyright to me; all others copyright to DC, CW, etc.  
**

* * *

Barry half-listened to the conversation going on back at Star Labs. Something was wrong, but he couldn't decide if he was walking into a trap or if Leonard was seriously in trouble. He suspected trouble—the idea that Leonard would call _him_ for help was just too weird to be a trap—but that theory was even more unsettling.

The phone, frozen dead and abandoned, didn't help his nerves any, and the trail of blood—so much of it that it was hard to miss in the darkness—leading away just made it worse. Barry had to move unbearably slow just to be sure he didn't miss anything.

And he still nearly walked into an ambush.

"Hey, woah, woah!" he cried out, putting his hands up, trying to placate the man pointing a gun at his face. "It's me, you called _me_ for help, remember?"

The hand holding that gun was shaking violently, but the wild look in the man's eyes suggested he would interpret anything as a threat. Barry didn't want to risk finding out how good Leonard's aim was just now.

"Easy," Barry said quietly. "Take it easy. I'm just here to help, okay?" He didn't reach for the gun, didn't even try to use his super-speed, though he desperately wanted to. He took a careful, slow step back and ran a critical eye over his sometimes-nemesis.

Leonard's face appeared to have been scratched up by some unknown assailant; there were pinpricks of blood all over, as though he'd been sweating the stuff, and two tracks ran down from his eyes where tears should have been.

That was alarming enough on its own, but even worse—Barry's eyes traveled downwards—Leonard's clothes were nearly shredded. What was left was almost completely soaked in the blood that continued to drip from his side, far beyond the man's ability to control with the single hand he pressed against the wound.

Leonard suddenly gave a cry and bent double, dropping the cold gun and clamping both arms to his injured side. He stumbled, his legs giving way, and Barry caught him before he collapsed to the ground.

"It's okay, it's okay, I've got you," Barry said, though he wasn't sure the man could hear him over the gasping. He placed one hand over both of Leonard's, to add pressure to the wound. He lifted his other hand to activate the speaker on his radio. "Hey guys, is my dad still there?"

"Hold on," he heard his father call distantly. A moment passed, and he could hear Henry Allen speaking into the microphone. "I'm here. What do you need?"

"I found Snart," Barry said. "He's hurt. _Real_ bad. I don't... I can't just leave him here, but I don't think I should move him. How quickly can you get here?"

"Not quickly enough," a voice said from behind Barry.

Leonard struggled, frantic, to get out of Barry's grasp, and Barry could feel the warm blood soaking through his costume as the man's panic opened up his wound a little more.

Then Leonard collapsed again, his strength too far gone to fight, though he continued to stare past Barry at whoever had spoken. The blood that seeped out onto Barry's arm had frozen to ice. Frozen like the sweat and tears that even now were carving fresh tracks down Leonard's face.

Barry suddenly understood where those scratches had come from. He started shivering, but it had nothing to do with the blast of cold air flowing around him. He turned his head a little—slowly, not daring to risk jostling the injured man—to catch a glimpse of who was behind him.

Someone in League armor walked towards them from the end of the alley. "What's that saying about two birds and one stone?" the man said. He brandished what looked like a sword made of solid ice.

"Ma... Majummed?" Barry asked.

The assassin inclined his head. "My reputation precedes me, even in this world," he replied.

"What the _hell_ do you want with Snart?"

"A challenge," Majummed replied. "Zoom wanted me to kill him, but I'd hoped he could put up a decent fight, make it worth the effort. Damn loser can't even protect his precious sister," he snarled. "I'll protect her better than he ever could; she'll never even know he's gone." He delivered a vicious kick at Leonard, forcing Barry to protect the injured man with his own body. "Pathetic," he muttered. "If Zoom hadn't ordered me... but _someone_ needs to put you out of your misery." The icicle in his hand cracked into several smaller pieces and floated around the assassin's intended victims as he casually selected where to strike first.

It felt like far too long before Barry could move again. Even with his healing factor, he was going to be feeling that kick for some time. "I didn't want to do this," he whispered when he could speak past the pain. "If I move you, I might hurt you, even worse than you are now. But the alternative..." He prayed, desperately, that Leonard could hear him. There was little enough chance he could avoid causing greater injury, even with the man's cooperation; no chance at all, without it.

"My... my sister," Leonard managed to whisper back; he didn't have the strength for more. "Lisa..."

"We'll find her," Barry said. "Together. I promise."

Leonard jerked his head in what Barry interpreted as a nod.

The red streak sped up the wall and over the roof just as the first shard of ice descended. The assassin watched as his victims disappeared.

"You were supposed to kill him," Zoom snarled. "Not to let them both escape."

"He is weak," Majummed replied. "They both are, your quarry and mine. But they will not leave the girl to my mercy for long. If he recovers, then I might have my entertainment before I finish the job; if not, then the Flash will have fewer allies to face against you." He shrugged. "Besides, with the Flash so willing to protect my prey, I could hardly give him to you unharmed."

"If you had killed him, instead of being distracted by _the girl_ ," Zoom said with a sneer in his voice, "there would have been no one for the Flash to protect."

"Aye, but then the Flash would never have understood the danger he was in." Majummed glanced at Zoom. "Threaten me for failing you, if you will. _If_ I fail you. But you hired me for my skill; I trust you to let me use it."

"Very well," Zoom said. "But do not test my patience."

* * *

 **Edited for naming in narrative.**


	7. Operation

**In which Team Flash works fast to save Len's life. Perhaps a little too fast for his liking, despite the obvious alternative.  
**

 **Majummed (mentioned only) copyright to me; all others copyright to DC, CW, etc.  
**

* * *

Henry Allen and Caitlin Snow, Team Flash's resident medical experts, had just finished packing up their supplies and were walking out when the red streak sped past them.

The Flash stopped just within the lab—the pain from where the assassin had kicked him wouldn't let him run much further—and he laid Leonard down as carefully as he could.

Leonard huddled on the floor, trying hard to protect his injured side as he struggled to breathe.

"Holy—" Joe cried out. He pulled his gun out and aimed it at the injured man, his reflexes and training not permitting him to consider Leonard any less of a threat than usual.

"Dad," Barry called out, ignoring Joe's reaction. "Dad, we're over here!"

"What happened?" Henry asked. "I thought you said he was too injured to move."

Caitlin took one look at the scene and ran off to fetch a gurney from the medical bay.

Barry shook his head. "He was—is—but the... that assassin caught up with him. There wasn't time to wait. Dad, please, you've got to help him!"

"Right. Joe, would you put that away and help me with him?" Henry took a position at Leonard's head and pushed his hands in under the man's arms. "Easy, son," he murmured. "Easy does it. We're just here to help you."

"Um... right," Joe said, a little breathlessly. He holstered his gun and grabbed Leonard around the legs, bracing himself as he watched for Caitlin to bring the gurney into view. Henry nodded, and they lifted. Joe winced when Leonard cried out.

"Oh, man, you weren't kidding about him being hurt," Jefferson muttered.

"Indeed," Martin agreed. He eyed the pool of blood that had already begun to spread. "Mr. Jackson, why don't you see if they could use your help in there while I get this cleaned up?"

"Me? I'm just an auto-mechanic; _you're_ the doctor."

"Quantum physicist," Martin corrected. "I dare say neither of us has any medical knowledge, but if they could use an extra pair of hands... well, with your youth you'd be a far more valuable asset."

Jefferson considered this for a moment, then nodded and followed the gurney into the med bay while Martin left to find a mop.

"Are you okay?" Jay asked. He held a hand out to help Barry to his feet.

Barry nodded, though he couldn't quite suppress a gasp as he stood up. "I will be," he said. "That assassin kicks _hard_."

"He attacked you?"

Barry shook his head. "No, I was... I was protecting Snart. I got in the way." Another cry of pain made him look in the direction Henry and Joe had gone. "I'm going... ow! I'm going to see if I can help them."

"You should probably take that off first," Cisco said. He stared at the frozen bloodstains on the costume. "Need any help?"

"Yeah, thanks." With the team's help, removing the costume was short, albeit painful, work, and soon the team followed a cleaned-up Barry into the medical bay.

Leonard had just been transferred from the gurney to an operating table, prompting another cry of pain at the movement.

Henry was taking off his own belt. "Not the best tool for the job," he muttered, "a long way from it, but if it's all we have..." He took a step towards Leonard, who visibly _shrank_ away from him. "What..."

"Here, let me," Barry said. He stepped forward and grabbed the belt. "Snart, my dad's a doctor. He wants to help you, but he needs to get a look at those injuries, okay? So if you could just bite down on this..."

Leonard's eyes darted back and forth several times between Barry and Henry—his terror evident as they lingered on Henry—before he nodded and opened his mouth to let Barry slide the belt in between his teeth.

Henry gave Barry a confused look, before he simply shook his head and began cutting away the remains of Leonard's shirt. "How's the anesthetic coming along?" he asked Caitlin.

"I don't..." Caitlin jumped when Leonard gave another cry from around the mouthful of leather. "We've got his height and weight, but I have no idea what his medical history is," she said. "If the dosage is too high..."

"We could always give him Curare," Cisco muttered. "A small dose should keep him still, right?"

"If you're not going to help, Ramon, then _get out_!" Harry said from where he was working on the sensors.

"It was just a suggestion, geesh."

"We need to give him something," Henry said. "Just... we'll have to err on the side of a smaller dose. Monitor his symptoms and give him a little more when we can. It'll just take a bit longer to take effect."

Caitlin nodded and filled a syringe, and Barry held one of Leonard's arms steady so she could inject it.

The tattered clothes were finally gone, and the team got a far better look than they wanted at Leonard's injuries. "God," Henry whispered on seeing the slashes and bruising. Strangest of all, bruises were still forming along the man's torso. "Who could do something like this?"

"He's still doing it," Harry said, pointing at the bruises that continued to spread. "Internal bleeding, but not by any normal injuries. I've adjusted the sensors to pick up changes in temperature. Majummed has the ability to create ice that will never break or melt, until he wants it to. If that is who attacked this man—and Mr. Allen's confirmed that it was—then there may be some of that ice in his body somewhere, continuing to damage him from the inside."

"Okay, just show me where it is," Barry said. "I can phase it out." He held one hand over Leonard's chest, near where the most recent bruise had formed, and began vibrating it at super speed.

Leonard eyed the blurring hand for a moment, then squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away.

"Don't," Jay said, grabbing Barry's wrist. "Don't you dare. If you try that, I can guarantee it will shatter before you even touch it."

Barry stared at his mentor. "But... but Harry just said it wouldn't break..."

"Until he wants it to," Harry repeated, face pale. "Garrick is right. If Majummed is working with Zoom, he'll be prepared for what a speedster can do. And he is sadistic enough to _let_ that ice break the moment you try to remove it with your speed."

"Then we remove it the old-fashioned way," Harry said. "The same way I would've done before these metahumans came along." He shrugged. "While I'm patching him up."

"Once the anesthetic takes effect," Joe said. He stared at the blood that continued to drip down. "Which will be... how long, exactly?"

Harry glanced at the monitor at the patch of cold moving around. "Too long," he said. He deliberately avoided meeting Leonard's shocked expression. "That's going to go through his heart first."

Henry stared at the monitor in horror, then shook himself. He picked up a scalpel and placed one hand on Leonard's shoulder. "I'm very sorry about this, son, but you can't afford to wait." He glanced up at the team. "Anyone who's got the stomach for it, hold him still. The rest of you need to get out."

Leonard stared at the scalpel, and began whimpering from around the belt as it moved closer...

* * *

 **Whoops! Chapter length is dictated more by chapter _content_ than by word count, but I do try to keep things somewhat... consistent. And I plum forgot that the previous chapters were a lot shorter.  
If you'd seen the original version of this chapter (for all of the half a minute it was up ;) ), it's now being split up into two chapters...  
**

 **Edited for naming in narrative.**

 **Challenge for new readers (and anyone who doesn't mind re-reading some of this stuff):  
Take a good long look at the part where Barry offers to phase the ice out of Len's chest. Consider what Barry is doing, what he looks like, how Len reacts to it. What do you suppose Len is thinking right then about that offer?  
Now go read Enemy of my Enemy (once it's posted)... then revisit this scene. _Now_ what do you suppose Len is thinking about Barry's suggestion?  
**


	8. Waiting Game

**In which Team Flash tries to understand why Majummed was supposed to kill Len.**

 **Majummed (mentioned only) copyright to me; all others copyright to DC, CW, etc.**

* * *

It didn't take long for the team to become truly uncomfortable during the operation, and they began to trickle out as soon as it was safe to leave. Cisco was the first to flee from the room, his face turning a vivid green.

"That was..." Jefferson hesitated and glanced at Martin.

"I don't think there's a word strong enough to describe what that was," Martin admitted.

"Horrifying," Cisco said. "The word you're both looking for is _horrifying_."

"I'm very glad to hear you say that, Ramon," Harry said with a snarl, "because for a while there, I was starting to think you were _enjoying_ that!"

"I was enjoying the fact that he was _scared_ , okay?" Cisco admitted. "That he... that he needed our help, and was desperate enough to actually ask for it. I figured I'm not ever gonna get any real revenge, might as well take what I can get." He shuddered. "But when he started screaming, it was like, my god, we were _torturing_ this poor man!" He glanced at Barry, then looked down again quickly. "If I'd traced the call when you said..."

Barry shook his head. "He asked me for help, and my first reaction was to ask how he got my number." He sighed. "I didn't even realize he was in trouble until it was almost too late. We _both_ screwed up."

"Yes, well if I _ever_ hear another 'suggestion' like that out of you again, Ramon—"

"You guys want to keep it down out here?" Henry asked, poking his head out of the medical bay.

"My apologies, Dr. Allen," Harry said.

"Sorry, Dr. Allen," Cisco said at the same time.

"How is he?" Barry asked. "He's going to be okay, right?"

"He's... sleeping off the rest of the anesthetic," Henry replied. "That boy's going to hate me forever for operating before it took effect. Not that I could blame him; I didn't go into medicine to _hurt_ people."

Barry shook his head. "You saved his life," he said with a half a smile. "Knowing him, he'll think he owes you a favor, and be super annoyed about that. He doesn't like owing people." His smile faded at Henry's grim expression. "What is it?"

"He's... he's lost an awful lot of blood already," Henry admitted. "With enough time, plenty of rest and fluids, his body might be able to restore it, but..." He sighed. "The next couple of hours will tell us whether he's likely to recover. We'll have to keep a close eye on him in the meantime."

"You got no arguments from me," Joe said. "I'd drag his ass back to Iron Heights the _instant_ it was safe to move him, if I didn't think that'd make him an easier target for this new metahuman."

"Speaking of which, do any of us know _why_ this one attacked Mr. Snart?" Martin asked. "Until now, all of the metahumans Zoom's recruited have gone after... well, Barry, obviously, but they've also been targeting their own doubles. To more easily hide in this world, as I recall. Perhaps if Mr. Snart had not thought to enlist Barry's aid—"

"No," Harry said. "No, no, don't even consider that. It's not his double."

"How can you be sure?" Jefferson asked.

"Because on my world, Leonard Snart is a good man!" Harry replied. "He would never hurt anyone. After... Look, Majummed _killed_ Leonard's sister. After that, the man has sacrificed everything he had to make sure nobody would ever have to face loss like he did. He's been one of my— _our_ ," he said, with a nod towards Jay "—greatest allies in tracking down the metahumans my particle accelerator created."

Jay nodded. "I had the superpowers, Harry had the tech... but Leonard was always one of the _real_ heroes. He could never have done something like this. As to why Majummed went after Snart, don't forget, he isn't just any metahuman, he's a trained assassin; killing people is kind of his job description. And no offense, but from what I've seen, your friend seems like the type that somebody would've taken a contract out on him sooner or later."

Barry shook his head. "No, there was something really weird about the whole thing. I'm not sure what. But Majummed said _Zoom_ wanted him to kill Snart."

"If we at least understood why," Martin said, "it might be easier to—and even now, I can't believe I'm saying this—to protect Mr. Snart if this assassin makes another attempt. Or if Zoom attacks him directly."

"What if Zoom is scared of Snart?" Cisco said.

"Scared?" Barry echoed. "Of _Snart_."

"Okay, maybe not... _scared_ , exactly. Maybe... cautious." The team stared at Cisco with variously bewildered expressions, and he sighed. "Okay, think about it. You two have got some seriously crazy frenemy foe-yay whatever going on, admit it."

"I'm not even going to ask you to translate that," Henry muttered.

"I mean, you got the dude to _protect_ you from the metahumans we were moving out of the Pipeline," Cisco continued.

"Yeah, right before he let them loose," Barry said.

"He was still protecting you, even after," Cisco said. "Then we go and save Lisa, and Snart turns around and warns you when the Weather Wizard and the Trickster were out for your head. I mean, I may not like the guy, and you took care of those two easy enough as it is, but I can't be the only one wondering how that fight might've gone down if he'd actually _helped_ you."

"Cisco's got a point," Joe said. "I still wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him, but Snart could be one _hell_ of an ally if he actually chose to fight by your side. Maybe... Zoom was trying to make sure he could never make that choice?"

"If that's true," Henry said, "then the boy's still in danger."

"No," Barry muttered. "No, he's not. Because if that's true, if that's why Majummed went after him, then Zoom made a _huge_ mistake. He has no idea what kind of enemy he created."

"Why?" Jay asked. "Because Snart's going to want revenge? The man nearly _died_ , Barry. Might still die. And just in case you think you were somehow fast enough to save him, to get him to your father, then stop thinking it. You need to understand, the only reason the two of you got away is because Majummed _let_ you. Escaping that assassin will not make Snart any more dangerous."

"No, _you_ need to understand!" Barry growled at his mentor. "Majummed kidnapped Lisa. Snart will pull through this; he will. And when he does... there is nothing he won't do to protect his sister. _That's_ what makes him dangerous; _that's_ what Zoom should be afraid of." He pushed himself to his feet and stalked off towards the medical bay.

"Don't..." Henry caught his arm. "Don't wake him. He needs to rest."

"I won't," Barry replied.

"Barry—"

"I _won't_ ," Barry insisted. "You said we've got to keep an eye on him, right? I just need to see him." Henry nodded and let Barry go.

"I hope he's right," Henry muttered after Barry was out of earshot. "That boy doesn't look like he'll be fighting anyone for a long time."

Joe chuckled.

Henry raised one eyebrow. "You find that funny?"

"Er... sorry, it's just..." Joe cleared his throat. "You keep calling him a _boy_. Thing is, a couple more years on him, _Snart_ could almost be old enough to be Barry's dad. And for some reason, he seems to think he's the Flash's personal nemesis. He's one of the most dangerous criminals we've ever faced, and that's even after all the metahumans started showing up. But you keep talking about him like he's just some kid."

Henry sighed. "Maybe I'd feel the same way," he said, "if I'd met him when he went up against the Flash. But the boy—sorry, the _man_ —I just operated on? Who's still fighting for his life in there? Right now, _that_ person is nothing more than a scared kid."

"Yeah, well, I know nobody wants to hear my suggestions right now," Cisco said, "but maybe you should drop this 'son' thing you've been doing."

"If it helps keep him calm—" Henry began.

"Snart and his sister were _abused_ by their father while growing up," Cisco interrupted. "I mean, I get what you're trying to do, but I just don't think _calm_ is a likely reaction. Not from him."

"His sister... I believe Barry said her name was Lisa?" Martin said. "Was that the one with the thermite in her neck?" Cisco nodded.

"What's thermite?" Henry asked.

"A microscopic bomb," Jay replied. "A few months ago, the old man had threatened to kill his own daughter if Snart didn't do whatever he was told."

"My god," Henry whispered. "Is that why he was afraid of me? He must've thought I..." He shook his head. "I don't... I would never want to resort to violence, but if I got my hands on the monster who would do that to his own _children_..."

"Snart beat you to it," Cisco said. "Once we told him Lisa was safe, he killed the bastard."

"It's the part where she's _not_ safe that I'm worried about," Joe said. "Barry's right; there's nothing that man won't do to protect his sister. Even if he does recover, if Zoom tries to use her as a hostage..." He gave Harry a pointed look.

"Then we don't let that happen," Harry said. "We can't let Zoom hurt anyone the team cares about, or use them against us, ever again. We'll find her, keep her safe." He sighed. "I just wish I knew how."

—ALTERNATE UNIVERSE—

"How is he?" Barry asked Caitlin. "Dad said he was... sleeping off the medicine?"

Caitlin nodded. She moved around the room, checking the monitors for the least little sign of change. But her eyes were constantly drawn back to the pale figure on the bed and the machines that were performing far too many of Leonard's vital functions for him.

She wiped a stray tear from her eyes.

"Are _you_ okay?" Barry asked.

"Yeah, I... It's weird. I keep trying to think of the things he's done—fighting against you, I mean—the number of people he's hurt, threatening me and Cisco and Dante, but seeing him like this..." She shook her head. "I can't make sense of it. I—I honestly—it's like I can't even convince myself that this is the same person." She shivered. "I know it sounds awful," she added in a quieter voice, "but what we had to do to save him... I keep wondering if I should've risked giving him a higher dose, even if it meant letting him... letting him go in his sleep." She shook her head again and turned around to stare at Barry. "Who even thinks like that? I mean I know _Cisco_ said... but I don't think he really _meant_ it. But I do; I honestly think it might be better..."

"You don't want to see anyone in pain. Not even him. I get that." Barry glanced at the monitors. He wasn't trained to read those numbers, but it _seemed_ like Leonard was doing okay. "But he's not in pain now. And he'll recover, thanks to you and my dad."

Neither Barry nor Caitlin was looking at Leonard, and thus, neither one noticed when he opened his eyes a crack to watch them.

"Nobody deserves to suffer like this," Caitlin whispered. "I hate to say it, I really do, but letting him live might have been... cruel. Not just to him, but to us. To _you_. Letting you see what kind of monster you'll have to face."

"Jay seems to think that Snart only survived because the assassin let us get away," Barry admitted. He shrugged. "And... I don't know, there was something really weird about that whole thing. Almost like he was... like he was giving me the chance to save Snart. I'm not really sure what to think at this point, but we have to believe we can beat this guy."

"How do we fight someone like that? How do we beat someone who would do _this_ to another person, who would deliberately let someone _suffer_ what that monster did?"

"We'll need some help," Barry replied. "And I know exactly who to ask."

* * *

 **And if that "pointed look" means anything, it's that I have unofficially dated this fic as taking place... between episodes 12 and 13 of season 2 of The Flash. After the team discovers Harry had stolen some of Barry's speed, before they make their plans to head to Earth 2 to rescue Jesse.  
I think I can manage to fit that in the story somewhere.  
Which, if we assume the episodes take place roughly when they air, works out perfectly with the "did your furnace go out" line back in chapter two ("is your AC on" doesn't have quite the same ring to it, and would've made the siblings a _lot_ more suspicious about how cold it was getting). Happy accident?  
The episodes of Arrow that it would similarly take place around are a little more iffy (relevant next chapter), but should still be workable.  
**

 **And yes, Harry _did_ just refer to Len as a member of the team. ;)**


	9. Unexpected Allies

**In which help both expected and not arrives on the scene.**

 **A couple of notes here:**  
 **1: This chapter has actually been done for a while (since the previous chapter was posted, in fact). The delay was partly due to having a bunch of other Flash/Legends WIPs calling out to me, but mostly due to trying to figure out where to split this one off from the _next_ chapter... and I still haven't decided where to stop writing that one. Not too sure I'm happy with the chapter length, but in this case, I'm taking what's actually going on in the chapter as the higher priority. Plus splitting them up helps keep the _next_ chapter's length from getting out of control.**  
 **2: While the "Alternate Universe" nature of this story depends on the Legends team, well, _not_ being the Legends team, it is also written with the assumption that certain changes introduced within Legends of Tomorrow would still happen... case in point, in this chapter Sara Lance has already become the White Canary (so far only mentioned in terms of her not wearing a mask).**  
 **3: Not _entirely_ sure where this story takes place, regarding the show Arrow, but it is clearly before Nyssa forced her "husband" to go up against Malcolm in Season 4.**

 **All characters seen or mentioned copyright to DC, CW, etc.**

* * *

A few hours later, Barry paced at the entrance to Star Labs, wondering if he dared use his speed to look for them.

"Fl... Barry?" Oliver Queen called out. He and the other three were in disguise; Barry was not. Only the two women wore their gear without masks.

" _Finally_ ," Barry muttered. "Thank you for coming... _all_ of you. I know it can't have been easy bringing _him_ along," he said with a nod at Malcolm Merlyn. "You guys are the closest thing we have to experts, and I just couldn't take the chance that he might know something useful."

"Are you kidding?" Sara Lance said. "Malcolm was practically _gloating_ the whole way. Seems to think it's hilarious that you wanted his help." She glanced at the rest of the team. "Convincing Nyssa to work with him was the hardest part."

Nyssa glared at her lover. "You said it was life or death," she said to Barry. "I rather doubt that Al Sa-her could know anything of use that we could not also give you, but if your friend's life depends on working with him, then I can work with him. For the moment."

"Tell that to Thea," Oliver snarled.

"That is an entirely different matter!" Nyssa retorted. "You had been warned—all of you—about the dangers of the Lazarus Pit. Small miracle that Constantine was able to restore Taer..." She broke off as she and Oliver both realized that Malcolm and Sara had vanished. "Where..."

The two pushed through the front door a moment later, wrestling a large man between them. "If you two weren't busy squabbling like an old married couple," Malcolm said, "you might've noticed this one eavesdropping on us."

Oliver aimed an arrow at the new man. "Mick Rory? What are _you_ doing here?"

"I was asked to come," Mick replied. He shrugged off his captors and glanced around the room before focusing on the people around him. "You Barry Allen?"

Barry nearly panicked before he reminded himself that he wasn't in costume; Cisco was still trying to figure out how to remove the frozen—permanently, it seemed—bloodstains. "Um... yeah?"

"Got your text," Mick said, and tossed a phone at Barry.

"What... text?" Barry muttered. He frowned at the phone. "Hold on, this is from my number. But I never sent..." Sara took the phone while Barry patted himself down. "Of course he did," he said, rolling his eyes. He couldn't _quite_ keep the smile from his face.

"Come to Star Labs," Sara read. "Need to discuss Alexa." She looked up at Mick. "What's Alexa?"

"Girl who hired us for a job a couple years back," Mick replied. "Job went south real quick, none of us could've seen it coming. But somehow Len did, got us out of there before anyone got hurt." He continued to watch Barry, ignoring the various weapons aimed his way. "Seems he's got an instinct for that sort of thing, and whenever he feels like something's going to turn rotten, he says it reminds him of that job."

"So Leonard Snart asked you to come here." Oliver drew his arrow back ever so slightly. " _Here_. Why?"

Mick shrugged. "Hell if I know. Maybe you should ask your friend," he said, gesturing at Barry. "In fact..." He lifted his heat gun and aimed it at Barry, still ignoring the weapons aimed his direction. "I'm going to ask you this just once. You said 'life or death,' right? _Whose_ life?"

Barry swallowed nervously.

—ALTERNATE UNIVERSE—

"Okay, guys, please don't freak out," Barry said from the lab's main entrance, "but, uh... I guess this was Snart's idea."

"Sorry, Barr, but those two sentences do not belong anywhere _near_ each other," Cisco muttered. He continued to peer at the readings on his computer screen.

"Come on, Cisco, you promised you'd go easy on him," Barry pleaded.

Cisco grumbled something under his breath before looking up. "Okay, fine, what are we not freaking out ab... holy, what the hell is Heat Wave doing here?" His eyes darted from Mick, to each of the costumed figures surrounding him, then back to the arsonist.

"Ramon?" Harry eyed Mick, wary for any sudden movements he, or the people surrounding him, might make. "Is everything all right?"

"I'm not freaking out," Cisco muttered. "I am not freaking out. I am _definitely_ not—I am definitely going to my lab to freak out in private, okay?"

Mick watched Cisco leave, then turned to Barry. "All right, shrimp. Fun's over; where's my partner?"

"This way," Barry replied.

"How much did Barry tell you?" Joe asked Oliver. The cop's eyes stayed on Mick, and he never removed his hand from his gun.

"Not much," Oliver admitted. "Just that there was some kind of trouble with the League. He sounded pretty freaked out about it." He glanced in the direction Barry and Mick had gone. "Do _you_ know why that one's here? Apparently Leonard Snart asked him to come here, but why? They don't have anything to do with the League."

"It might be easier to show you," Harry replied.

"Probably shouldn't leave that one alone with Barry for too long, anyway," Jay added. "I have a feeling he might be short on patience."

"Out of my way, old man!" Mick growled.

"Speaking of which..." Jay muttered.

"I _said_ , get out of the way," Mick repeated. He glared at Henry.

Henry crossed his arms and refused to budge from the doorway. "I trust you can recognize a hospital room when you see it?" he asked in a level tone.

Mick's eyes flicked to the glass wall, but at that angle he could only see Barry and Caitlin standing inside and staring at the exchange. "Yeah?" he said, confused. "Of course I can."

"Then you should also know that I will not tolerate anything that upsets my patient," Henry said. " _Anything_. Is that understood?"

Mick scowled, and opened his mouth to continue yelling at the man.

Henry drew himself up to his full height—all one inch shorter than Mick—and matched the arsonist's scowl. "Is. That. Un. Der. Stood?" he repeated.

"Clearly," Mick said.

"Then I _highly_ suggest you lose the attitude," Henry said. "And the weapons."

"Sure thing, _doc_ ," Mick growled, but he removed his weapons as ordered.

"That goes for the rest of you," Henry added, with a quick glance at Oliver's group. "In fact, I think it would be best if most of you waited in the lobby," he added, before he turned around to join Barry inside the medical bay.

Oliver was stunned, but once he saw that Mick was, indeed, removing his weapons, he began to do the same. The group took their cue from him, only a shade slower to comply.

"I'm sorry, but why is _Heat Wave_ here?" Caitlin asked. "I mean, I know you said we needed help, but... _him_?"

"Apparently I sent him a text," Barry replied. He looked down at Leonard on the bed. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"Barry!" Caitlin snapped. "That's not even _remotely_ funny." She placed a hand over one of Leonard's arms in a faintly protective gesture. "He hasn't regained consciousness since we operated on him. He could never have— _ohmygod!_ " She jumped back when the arm moved away, and she stared at the injured man.

At the man who was most definitely _not_ unconscious.

* * *

 **Next chapter Henry starts to explain just why it's impossible for Len to have recovered as quickly as he did.  
Also I begin retconning the idea that Henry had no idea who Len is, to make it (hopefully) more closely match something I'd come up with while working on Flash Sideways.  
**


	10. Impossible!

**In which the team discovers something unexpected about Len's recovery and nobody can explain it.**

 **Ah, this chapter has been (almost) done for some time now, but _finally_ I've finished it! Most of the delay was due to the fact that everything in this story up through the end of Len's perspective in this chapter had been written _before_ I wrote anything in the Flash Sideways story-verse (and future chapters were planned out before Flash Sideways turned into part of my personal headcanon). That and I've been focusing on those other fics for a while.  
As a result, Len having prior history with Henry, and the reaction to Harry's presence, were entirely new things that had to be worked into this fic somehow. Not like he was in a position to realize either one was there prior to this point anyway... right? ;)  
**

 **So much for splitting it off from the previous one to keep length moderately consistent, though. Not only do I think this is the longest chapter I've written in this fandom, but I have doubts as to whether any other chapter will even come close.  
You just _had_ to have that panic attack, didn't you, Len?**

 **Also, I'm sticking with the "call characters by their given names even if the viewpoint character doesn't know who they are" approach. Thus Oliver being "Oliver" instead of the Green Arrow, despite being in costume. (Although maybe Len's figured it out anyway, hmm?)  
"Jay Garrick" is an obvious exception; his ability to participate in these scenes _depends_ on the characters not knowing that he's really Zoom, so I'll continue to call him "Jay" until the plot requires him to reveal himself, just like Harrison Wells (via the Flash Sideways fic, Enemy of My Enemy) continued to be identified as "Harrison Wells" until he revealed himself to be Eobard Thawne.**

 **All characters seen or mentioned copyright to DC, CW, etc.**

* * *

Leonard pushed himself, slowly and painfully, up into a sitting position. He paused only to wave Mick and Barry off when they both stepped forward to help him.

Caitlin and Henry shared a bewildered look. Joe scratched his head, and Oliver looked... well, it was hard to tell what he was thinking with that damn mask, but from the way his eyes darted around, Leonard thought he might be more puzzled by everyone's reactions than anything else.

Once upright, Leonard leaned forward, one arm on his knees and the other hand holding the oxygen mask that was strapped to his face. He rested for a moment, far too exhausted from so little movement. Only once he'd caught his breath and was sure of his balance did he begin fumbling around under his pillow, wincing when the motion pushed at the IV in his arm, to retrieve the phone hidden underneath.

"You could at least _pretend_ to be ashamed," Barry muttered. He took the phone back and shoved it into his pocket. If he'd used his speed to so much as glance at it, Leonard couldn't tell.

"Sorry... Barry," Leonard replied between gasps. "Old... habits."

"Well, since you're, um... up..." Henry said. "Why don't I give you a quick check-up, all right?"

Leonard watched the older man warily, flicked his gaze to Barry, then back again. Finally he nodded. "Yeah... sure."

"And you're going to tell me if anything hurts or feels uncomfortable," Henry ordered. He picked up a stethoscope. "I don't care how tough you _think_ you are, if I let something go untreated or hurt you worse because you didn't say anything..."

Leonard nodded again. "Yessir," he murmured.

Caitlin seated herself in front of the computer without a word, leaving the physical part of the examination to the one member of their team that Leonard _hadn't_ hurt in the past.

Leonard would have laughed if breathing didn't hurt so much. Such a quick change from the doctor protecting her patient to remembering he was the enemy; the _Flash_ should be jealous of her speed. Or, since Caitlin hadn't realized he was awake at first, perhaps now she was only making sure _he_ remembered it; certainly she'd been compassionate enough that day in Iron Heights, and he didn't believe she'd known he was awake those few seconds, either.

But at Iron Heights, she had never suggested that it might be _compassionate_ to let him die in his sleep, and he remembered all too well how much damage the other inmates had done. So what had the assassin done to him that he _didn't_ know about?

Leonard tried to catch a glimpse of one of the monitors Caitlin was watching, but the angle was all wrong.

"All right, let's start with a deep breath," Henry said. "Can you manage that?"

Leonard took one hesitant breath.

He gasped when the stethoscope's bell touched his chest.

"Too cold?" Henry asked.

"Don't like... being touched."

"Sorry; I forgot all about that. I'll try to make this quick." Henry moved the stethoscope. "Okay, another breath. Hold and... exhale. And in..." Another move. "And out."

The first part of the exam went smoothly enough, until Henry moved around behind his patient.

Leonard tensed up, and his ragged breathing sounded far too loud in his own ears.

Henry backed off quickly, stepping back around to where the injured man could see him.

It was only after Leonard sought Barry's gaze, saw that the younger man was completely relaxed—well, as relaxed as he could be with Mick in the room, staring at them with that stupid look on his face—that he forced himself to settle. "Go ahead," Leonard said, but he couldn't quite keep the tremor out of his voice.

"All right, inhale," Henry said, placing the stethoscope's bell on Leonard's back. "And... you okay?"

"Mmm... _that_ one hurt."

Mick took one step forward before Henry pinned him back with a glare.

"I must say... Doctor Allen..." Leonard said. "I'm im... impressed."

" _You're_ impressed," Caitlin muttered, her eyes still on the monitors.

"Not many people would... would stand up against Mick," Leonard explained. His voice was gaining strength, and he didn't need to stop talking to catch his breath quite as often. "Don't even need to know... what he's capable of. Just take one look... and walk away."

"It's like I told you the first time," Henry replied, "I'm not in the habit of walking away when someone needs my protection."

Mick frowned. _First time?_ he mouthed.

Leonard stared at the floor instead of replying.

Henry picked up a digital blood pressure cuff. "Here, give me your arm for a moment," he ordered, and wrapped the cuff around Leonard's free arm. "This won't be completely accurate, not until you're totally relaxed, but I can still work with the readings."

Caitlin finally turned around to face him. "How'd you know his name was 'Allen,' anyway?" she asked.

"Lucky guess?" Leonard said. He smirked at her. "The kid calling him 'dad' might have been a bit of a clue." He wasn't going to tell her the real reason; bad enough he'd told Cisco that night.

She frowned. "Oh! Right, Barry did say that, didn't he? But... you actually remember that? With everything that was going on, I'm surprised you even noticed..."

"I have an eidetic memory, Dr. Snow," Leonard explained. "There isn't much I forget. Even if I _didn't_ notice the first time." He held her gaze just long enough for her face to go pale before he stared at the floor again. "Speaking of which, where's Ramon?"

"He's, um... he's in his lab," Caitlin stammered. "I—I should probably see how his... um... analysis is coming."

"Yeah, when you go out," Henry said, "would you mind asking Doctor Wells if I could borrow his detector? You know which one I'm talking about."

"Uh... sure?" Caitlin replied before she made a swift exit.

Leonard's eyes snapped up to Henry's face. Did he say _Wells?_ But didn't the Flash, or rather _Eddie_ , take him down months ago? Didn't they _know_ what Wells had done?

His breaths came shorter.

Faster.

Shallower.

He struggled with two conflicting impulses... To rip the mask free, to remove the damned thing covering his face as though it was the mask that stifled his breathing, and to forget that it was his panic alone that denied him the air he so desperately needed. Or to leave it in place, knowing, logically, that it provided a far more pure supply of oxygen than he could ever get on his own.

Remove the mask or leave it? Tear off the things attached to him, the wires and tubes that would slow his escape if Wells came after him in here... or leave them in place, as he knew they helped with his recovery?

His vision turned grey, shrank down to pinpricks. He couldn't concentrate on the question... couldn't be sure he even remembered the question.

Someone's hand pushed his own away and covered the mask, taking the choice away from him.

"Hey, easy," a voice murmured. "It's okay, Snart."

Leonard knew that voice, but he couldn't place it. Couldn't think through the wave of dizziness.

A pair of hands pushed him, gently, back down to the bed.

"Easy," the voice continued. "It's okay, you're safe. Cisco didn't mean what he said."

Cisco? Who the hell cared what _Cisco_ had said? Not like curare would've done anything, anyway; nearly as useless as the anesthetics had been. But if _Wells_ was here...

The voice continued to murmur reassurances. Not once did it mention Wells.

That had to mean something.

Leonard tried to focus on that voice. To listen. To _believe_ what the voice was saying.

His pounding heart slowed until his chest stopped hurting, though the sensation of pressure remained. His breathing deepened. And finally, _finally_ , his vision swam back into focus and he could see the people around him—Henry at the oxygen tank's controls, Mick holding the mask in place, not that he needed to, and even Joe and Oliver on the other side of the room—all watching him with concern. And Barry...

Barry was holding him down, both hands almost directly over Leonard's heart.

A whimper escaped from Leonard's throat.

Barry snatched his hands away. "I'm sorry," he murmured, "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just..."

"You didn't... didn't hurt me," Leonard gasped. "Just... scared me a bit."

 _Damn it!_ He'd only meant to remind the kid that he hated being touched.

"Ramon was freaking out about me being here," Mick finally said. He let go of the mask and took a few steps towards the door. "Want me to check on him?"

What the hell was he talking about?

Oh, right. Cisco. Everyone seemed to think Leonard was panicking about the little bastard's suggestion.

"No," he replied before Mick could get the wrong idea... before anyone accidentally let Mick know _why_ they thought that. "No, I was just curious."

"Barry, would you mind?" Henry asked. He adjusted the tank's output with one hand, and waved vaguely in the direction of the monitors with the other; the blood pressure cuff dangled from his outstretched hand.

"Yeah, sure," Barry replied. He took Caitlin's place at the computer and brought up several images of Leonard's internal injuries... real-time images, as Leonard remembered. The lab's medical equipment, most of it built in-house, utilized far better systems than anything regular hospitals had access to.

"That better?" Henry asked. He stood up to peer at Leonard, but didn't move away from the tank's controls just yet.

Leonard nodded. "I think so." He turned his head to look at the monitors, but the angle was worse lying down. He couldn't make out anything that Barry was looking at.

"So," Henry said, "an eidetic memory, huh? I don't think you've told me that one before." He finally stepped away from the controls to continue his examination. "But that means you should have no trouble telling me where you were, say..." He paused. "The night of December 11, 2013?"

"The night the particle accelerator exploded?" Leonard replied. He glanced at Barry, but the younger man merely shrugged and continued to watch the monitors. "I don't mean to tell you your job, doctor, but if you're testing me for a concussion or something, shouldn't you be asking something _you'd_ know the answer to? Or could reasonably find out? Like maybe my full name, or how many fingers you're holding up?"

"That's not why he's asking," Harry said, poking his head in the door.

Leonard yelped and nearly jerked back upright at the sight of him.

"Seriously, dude," Barry said without even looking away from the monitors, "you have _got_ to stop jumping every time someone gets near you."

"I agree," Henry said. He pushed at Leonard, gently but firmly, to force the injured man to lie back down. "You need to stay calm if you want to heal properly."

"My apologies for startling you, Mr. Snart," Harry said. "I'll only be a moment." He ignored Mick's scowl and stepped in, then began waving one arm around Leonard.

Leonard tried, patiently, to behave as though he thought this was normal. But how could Barry—how could _any_ of them—just stand there and act like there was nothing wrong with this man being here? "Aren't you supposed to be in a wheelchair?" he finally made himself ask. "And also... dead?"

"I've been getting that a lot lately," Harry replied. "Though you seem to have forgotten 'evil.'"

Leonard flinched.

"But..." Harry sighed. "With your... 'education,'" he said in a disgusted voice, "I suppose it's too much to ask that you've heard of the many-worlds theory?"

Joe snorted.

"You're from another universe," Leonard said.

Joe's eyebrows shot up.

Harry merely nodded.

"But it can't be _just_ another universe," Leonard added. He shook his head. "No, you're telling me that there's more of you. That you're... you're like the Harrison Wells from another country." Joe's eyebrows kept on lifting with every word, long after Leonard would have thought it impossible. "Only instead of hopping on an airplane to get here, you came through a... I guess you'd call it a wormhole?"

"The same kind of wormhole your recent assailant came through," Harry replied. He smiled. "A simplistic explanation, yes, but it works for the moment. We can always discuss it in detail later if you'd like."

Leonard looked away from Harry, feeling a little uncomfortable at the man's obvious pleasure at his response. He remembered that smile from years ago; Tess had liked teaching him more than Harry ever had, and thus she'd given him that smile more often than her husband, but...

But he shouldn't _be able_ to remember it. Any of it. He hadn't known the couple that well. They'd only been marks. They'd never taken to him as a student, never had the chance and would never have wanted it if they'd had it. Not after what he'd done to them... what he'd done to Tess.

"So..." Harry cleared his throat. "I assume you'd understand when I say that I'm not _that_ Harrison Wells?"

Once again, Barry gave Leonard no reaction, no reason to doubt the man's word. The kid could be entirely too trusting, but Leonard allowed himself to relax slightly, though he continued to flinch every time Harry made a pass with whatever "detector" he kept waving around.

"The way I understand it," Leonard muttered, " _that_ Harrison Wells wasn't even that Harrison Wells."

Harry's smile vanished, but he continued to focus on his own examination.

Joe shook his head. "You got all that from 'many worlds?'" he protested. "Man, I _still_ haven't got a clue what they're talking about half the time."

Harry snickered.

Leonard managed to shrug one shoulder. "I had a boss—unofficially—who liked to talk about stuff like that." That, at least, was true enough.

Joe snorted. "Unofficially," he repeated. "Right. So what did you steal for this 'boss'... or was it _from_?"

"It might shock you to know," Leonard drawled, "that I've actually held jobs that _didn't_ involve being a criminal." He sighed. "I shouldn't be surprised, though; my father didn't understand how I could enjoy it, either."

He pretended he didn't notice the smug look on Barry's face.

"If you actually enjoyed it," Oliver said, "then why aren't you still doing it?"

"My boss was murdered before she could make anything official," Leonard replied.

Oliver frowned. "Your father—"

"No," Leonard said. "Oh, he sabotaged me often enough, but he didn't have anything to do with her death. No, I have it on good authority that she'd been killed by a speedster."

Barry turned around to stare at him.

"Whose authority?" Joe asked.

Leonard rolled his eyes, glanced at Harry, then turned to look back at the cop. "Take a wild guess."

Joe narrowed his eyes.

"Who was she?" Oliver asked, far more gently than Leonard expected.

Mick groaned. He flexed one hand at his hip where the heat gun usually rested.

Of course. Mick had never seen her as anything but another mark, another symbol of the power Lewis and the Santinis had held over Leonard back then. As a reminder of everything that had gone wrong when Leonard had gotten sick.

That was just too bad. Henry had made Mick leave his weapons behind, and Leonard was damn well going to take advantage of it. "Her name was Tess Morgan," he replied. He waited for the group's reaction... for any one of them to call him a liar.

Joe, probably. Or maybe Oliver.

Barry's mouth dropped open.

"Damn," Joe muttered. " _That's_ why you were having a panic attack?"

"When Doctor Allen said Wells was here," Oliver said, "you thought he meant..."

"Eobard Thawne?" Leonard supplied. "Reverse Flash? Speedster from the future? The thought might've crossed my mind."

Mick scratched his head. "Wait... _Wells_ was the asshole in the yellow costume? The guy in the _wheelchair_ tortured you? The same guy who—" He waved vaguely towards Henry Allen, then dropped his hand and shook his head. "What the hell did he have against you?"

Barry's jaw dropped further. " _Tortured?_ " he echoed. "But why would he—"

"Can we stop talking about this?" Leonard pleaded. He didn't want to tell Barry why the other speedster had hurt him. He told himself it was just fear, that erasing the Reverse Flash from history didn't erase the effect he'd had on the thief as easily. He could even halfway believe it; that panic attack hadn't come from nowhere, after all.

Fear, and maybe a little bit of pride. Trying to salvage his reputation. To remind the kid that he didn't need anyone's pity.

But he couldn't _quite_ convince himself that it wouldn't hurt to see the kid blaming himself. That he didn't want Barry to think, after everything else Eobard had done to hurt him, that _he_ was the sole reason that the other speedster had felt the need to demonstrate, quite vividly, what would happen to Lisa if the Rogues ever pissed him off again.

Someone like Barry shouldn't ever have to feel that kind of guilt... not for someone like _Leonard_. But Barry had proven, all too often, that he was exactly the sort of person who _would_.

"Sorry," Barry mumbled. "I guess it doesn't really help with your recovery to focus on that kind of thing."

"It explains the anomalies in his x-rays, though," Harry said.

"The damage to his skeletal structure?" Henry said. "A speedster could do that?"

"A speedster's the only one I've seen that _can_ ," Harry replied. "Though this is the first time I've seen anyone survive that sort of attack." He met Leonard's gaze again. "You, my friend, have a gift for escaping certain death." He peered at the device on his wrist. "A gift that apparently has nothing to do with dark matter."

"Dark matter?" Leonard's eyes went wide. "Wait... are you suggesting you think I'm one of these meta f..." His eyes flicked from Henry to Barry and back again, and he quickly amended his question, "these metahumans?"

"We are _suggesting_ ," Henry replied, "that you are a _hell_ of a lot tougher than you look. And we have no explanation for how you've recovered so quickly."

"Hmm... I'll _try_ to take that as a compliment," Leonard said with something resembling his usual smirk.

Henry didn't bother to return the smile. "I've had patients bigger than you, Leo. Stronger. Guys who looked a lot like your friend over there," he said with a nod towards Mick. "Hell, the thugs at Iron Heights; you know what some of them were like. Patients who weren't messed up even half as bad as you were when I got to them, and it took several _weeks_ before they could manage what you've done in a few hours. And that's even before I take blood loss into account; I'd have to estimate that you lost at least fifty-three percent, maybe nearer to sixty."

The smirk faded. "I thought forty percent was fatal."

"Normally it is," Henry said. "By all rights you should at least be in a coma. Instead, your breathing is fine, your heartbeat is steady... Blood pressure's extremely low, even in the middle of your panic attack, and that's probably the only thing even slightly normal about your condition." He nodded at the monitors. "I mean, you still _look_ like you lost a fight with a wood-chipper, and you're a long way from healed. But there is nothing _normal_ about how quickly you've recovered already."

"Len's always been able to recover quickly," Mick said. "Okay, so it took a few days for his ribs to heal after that speed freak went after him." He shrugged. "Maybe a week after the thugs at Iron Heights ganged up on him. But that's about it. It's got nothing to do with that damn explosion."

"Always?" Henry asked.

"Well, I didn't exactly have a reason to find out as a kid," Leonard admitted, "not before I became my dad's favorite punching bag. But for the last thirty years, yeah. You knew this the first time we met."

"Yeah, well, now I'm starting to wonder about that first time," Henry muttered. "You never thought there was anything odd about it?"

Leonard shook his head.

—ALTERNATE UNIVERSE—

Oliver frowned. There was something going on, something he'd missed, but what? Whatever trouble there was with the League, Leonard Snart was clearly at the center of it, but Oliver would never be able to interrogate him until the thief had recovered further; Henry simply wouldn't allow it.

Not that Oliver would have _interrogated_ someone in that poor of shape, anyway. Probably.

 _You guys are the closest thing we have to experts... same kind of wormhole your recent assailant came through_.

Or maybe it wasn't the League. Or rather, not the League that Oliver was familiar with.

Maybe Leonard wasn't in any condition to provide answers, but there were others here who could offer a few hints.

"Barry," Oliver said. "I need to talk to you. Why don't we leave Doctor Allen to his work?"

Henry pinned Oliver with a look of disapproval that a blind man couldn't miss. "Don't forget what I said."

"Don't worry," Oliver replied. "I won't do anything to upset your _patient_." Yet. "Barry?"

"Uh... sure?" Barry said.

Leonard's eyes snapped up to watch as Barry slowly moved away from the computers.

"Don't worry, Snart," Barry said. "You can trust my dad; he'll take good care of you, I promise."

The fear never left the thief's eyes, but he nodded.

Interesting. Leonard's upbringing didn't allow him to show how he felt so readily. If he showed that much fear—and that much trust in Barry's judgment, even if it was only because he had no choice—how much more must he feel that he kept hidden?

Oliver followed Barry out to the Cortex, ignored the sickened expressions on Caitlin and Cisco's faces, the anger on Jay's, and the mild confusion on Nyssa and Sara's. Malcolm still wore his mask, but his posture suggested that he was on guard.

There were too many questions, most of which would have to wait until Leonard could answer them. But right now there was one thing Oliver wanted to know more than anything.

He waited until he judged that they were far enough from the medical bay before grabbing Barry by the shirt and shoving him against a wall. "Why the hell didn't you _tell_ me you were helping Snart?" he hissed.

In hindsight, his first concern should've been why Barry didn't simply flash himself away.

"Get your hands off him!" Mick snarled.

A massive pair of arms wrapped around Oliver from behind and yanked him away from Barry. Oliver used the leverage to kick his way up the wall, breaking free of Mick's grasp and flipping over to land behind the arsonist in the same move.

He swung a fist before Mick finished turning around to face him.

The blow never fell. A telescope swung in from out of nowhere and smashed into the back of Oliver's head.

* * *

 **Next chapter, Oliver powers through his new migraine to learn what Barry knows of Majummed's attack.  
**

 **Re: the many-worlds theory.  
Am I seriously the only one in this fandom who thinks the idea of alternate universes is _easier_ to wrap my head around than time travel? Not that I understand the science behind either one, but at least understanding the basic concept...  
And yet, Harry being from another universe always seems to prompt the "I'm just getting used to time travel, now you're telling me there are other universes?" variety of confusion.  
Also, the disgust in Harry's voice (prior to Len's response): in the original version of this scene, I'd written Harry as the sort who doesn't think too highly of the education that can be gained by someone who dropped out of school (or rather, _can't_ be gained if one never attempts to finish it), though he is plenty surprised and pleasantly so by what Len knows about the subject.**

 **Linked fics:  
What Len had told Cisco (regarding knowing who Henry Allen is) happened in the main Flash Sideways fic, which takes place during the events of Out of Time and Rogue Time.  
Len's panic attack due to events of the Flash Sideways fic, Enemy of my Enemy, which takes place shortly after Rogue Time (picking up right where Flash Sideways leaves off) and extends to the beginning of Rogue Air.  
Mentions of Len being set on by the other inmates refers to the events of the Flash Sidewas fic, Legends of Another Day, which takes place during the events of Legends of Today and Legends of Yesterday.  
Henry is that familiar with "Leo" due to certain events within the Flash Sideways prequel What Could Have Been. Len's memories of Tess, and "everything that had gone wrong" when Len got sick, are likewise explored in the prequel.  
Why Len recovered so quickly to explored within the fic Majummed and its sequel League of MacGuffins.  
Shawna's unexpected intervention at the end due to the events of the Flash Sideways fic Recruitment Drive, which takes place following Rogue Time and extends past the end of the first season.**


	11. Best Laid Plans

**Because chapter names "Unexpected Allies" and "Enemy of My Enemy" have already been used.**

 **In which Oliver wakes up with a migraine, Biv whammies Cisco,** **Barry is embarrassed and confused, and Doctor Allen is _seriously_ pissed off at two League assassins.**

 **OOC is Serious Business and all that.**

 **All characters seen or mentioned copyright DC, CW, etc.**

* * *

Roy Bivolo crouched over the barely-conscious Oliver Queen and removed his mask. "Ah, damn," the metahuman said. "Lost that bet."

Shawna Baez smirked at him. "Told you. Pay up."

"Er... rain check?"

"Oh, god," Barry muttered, hiding his face in his hands.

Oliver groaned. "What hit me...?" He lifted one hand towards his head, and stopped short. "Why am I handcuffed to a chair?"

"Need me to hit him again?" Shawna asked.

Mick snorted. "That's supposed to be _my_ job."

"I wanted to knock him out, not kill him," Shawna retorted.

"Oh, _god_ ," Barry muttered again.

"You missed a hell of a freak-out, Biv," Mick said, ignoring Barry completely.

Roy frowned. "Pity. But knowing Leonard, it's only a matter of time; I just hope I can see how my power works _before_ he ends up dead."

"Hey, whoa, whoa!" Cisco protested. "That is just _sick_!"

Caitlin shot Roy a scandalized look. "You want to see if you can enrage Snart while he's having a _panic attack_?"

"Not enrage," Roy said, turning his glowing blue gaze on the pair. " _Calm_."

Caitlin yelped and swiftly covered her eyes.

Cisco wasn't so lucky. But instead of becoming angry, the tension simply drained out of him. He blinked. "Oh. Okay, yeah, that's cool." A dopey grin slowly shaped itself on his face.

Roy smiled. "Shall I?" he asked, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the medical wing.

Caitlin stared back and forth between Cisco and Roy. "I... I guess you'd better," she stammered. "Oh! I... I should probably let them know you're here, first, so J—Detective West doesn't try to shoot you."

"Much appreciated," Roy murmured as he followed her out.

Mick whirled around to point his heat gun at Oliver. "I'm impressed," he said.

" _You're_ impressed," Oliver muttered. He dropped the handcuffs and began massaging some feeling back into his wrists. "You shouldn't have been able to hear me."

"I _didn't_ hear ya," Mick replied. "That's why I didn't like it." He scowled. "Arrows burn, little man. So will you if you touch the kid again."

"Wait..." Barry frowned. "You're protecting... _me_?"

Mick shrugged. "You're protecting Len, ain't ya? Makes you a friend in my book. 'Sides, Len asked me to look out for you; he needs someone around here he trusts."

"Wha... No. No, Snart doesn't trust me," Barry said. He scratched the back of his head. "I don't know why you would think... He just... um... No..."

"Like hell he _doesn't_!" Mick snapped. He tossed the heat gun aside, folded his arms, and leaned against a desk to stare down at the younger man. "Weren't you watching him in there? He's been takin' his cue from you since he opened his eyes. Ain't no way he could've gone from a panic attack to tolerating that look-alike so easy if he didn't believe that it'd be okay."

"He trusts _you_ ," Barry protested. "He knows you'll look out for him."

"He knows I'll protect him," Mick agreed. "But that don't mean he trusts me; it just ain't the same thing. And anyway, I ain't in there protecting him right now, am I? That's 'cause it was _you_ who told him he'd be safe with yer old man, even with the cop and the look-alike in there."

Cisco shook his head. "Anybody else feel like they're on the set of the Twilight Zone?"

"Yeah, me," Oliver replied. "My own team just let them attack me? _And_ unmask me?"

"Honestly, _Oliver_ ," Nyssa spat the name. "We didn't let them attack you, we let them defend Mr. Allen." She nodded at Barry. "It's bad business to assault the client this early in the job. Or had you already forgotten who summoned our aid?"

Malcolm snickered, the sound slightly muffled by the hood he still wore. "Though maybe next time the great Al Sah-him won't let himself be taken by surprise so quickly."

Shawna scowled. "I'd like to see _you_ take on a teleporter, _Arthur King_."

"I'm not the one stupid enough to attack the teleporter's friend," Malcolm pointed out. "And how the hell do you even know that name?"

"The boss does his homework," Shawna replied with a shrug. "Some of us pay attention."

Malcolm sighed and removed his hood. "No point in wearing this."

" _This_ is who you called for help?" Mick asked. He shook his head. "Come on, kid, what are you doing with these losers? You don't need them. Just point me at whoever did that to Len."

"It's not that easy," Barry replied. "Majummed... the metahuman who attacked Snart... He's got Lisa."

"Dammit," Mick grumbled. "That _does_ make it harder."

Malcolm gave a start. "Majummed? You said _Majummed_?"

"It's... what he called himself," Barry replied.

"That isn't possible!" Malcolm protested. He glanced at Nyssa. "Is it?"

"I wouldn't think so," Nyssa replied. "But I couldn't be certain without searching my father's records."

"Uh... little clue for the newer people?" Sara asked. "Who's Majummed?"

"Majummed is the name used in an experiment my father conducted years ago," Nyssa explained. "Before my time. But as Daughter of the Demon, and," she nodded at Malcolm, "as one of his Horsemen, we were both privy to certain details of the League's history that is concealed from all others. But I am absolutely certain that there is no living member of the League by that name."

"No _living_ member," Barry said. "This just gets better and better."

"That might not matter," Jay pointed out. "Even if _your_ Majummed is dead, anything you can tell us about him—or about this experiment—could be valuable. Many of the people the team's been dealing with lately have come from another universe. That includes Harry, Zoom, and myself. And, of course, whoever attacked Snart."

Cisco nodded slowly. "They're kind of like... copies, I guess, of people from this world. Kinda the same person, and kinda not."

"And they tend to go in the same circles as the ones from this world," Jay continued. "Similar interests, similar goals. Similar personalities. Anything you know about _your_ mystery assassin will tell us something about ours, and might help us figure out a way to fight back if he shows up again."

"Not to mention finding out where he might have taken Lisa," Cisco murmured.

Malcolm nodded. "I'll check with my operatives and see what I can find in those records."

Nyssa grimaced. "I expect we should see this Snart's injuries," she said. "It may tell us something about the pretender's methods."

"Let's do that first," Malcolm agreed. He left the Cortex in the direction Roy and Caitlin had gone.

Sara and Oliver shared a bewildered look. "You two are actually going to work together on this?" Sara asked. "Maybe this _is_ the Twilight Zone."

"I'll deal with that pretender to the throne soon enough," Nyssa snarled. "But _this_ pretender to the League may prove the bigger threat. 'Copy' he may be, but he is not one of ours; if he is using the League's name to kill in _this_ world, then by our laws he is an imposter and must be dealt with accordingly. Cooperation with Al Sa-her in this circumstance is a... 'necessary evil,' I believe you would call it." She swept out to follow closely behind Malcolm.

"I'm not sure that's a..." Barry said. But they were already gone. "Never mind."

Only a few minutes passed before a crash rang from the medical bay and echoed through the labs. Shawna grabbed Barry and Mick to teleport them a few short hops to investigate while the rest of the group raced to catch up.

Barry's eyes grew wide at the sight before him.

The bed had toppled over, taking some of the equipment with it. Leonard was huddled against the wall, wild-eyed and shaking violently. Blood began to soak through the bandages on his side.

Roy and Caitlin crouched on opposite sides of the thief. The metahuman was trying to force Leonard to meet his eyes, while Caitlin applied pressure to the reopened wound and murmured reassurances.

And a furious Henry Allen marched the two assassins out of the room.

Joe and Harry waited outside of the medical bay, both well away from the doctor.

"That's it!" Henry growled. He shoved the two assassins out the door. "Anyone who is not a medical doctor—" he glanced over his shoulder at Roy "—or a metahuman with calming powers— _stay out_!"

"What did I do?" Joe asked. He recoiled from the look Henry gave him. "Eeh! Never _mind_ , sorry for asking!"

Firestorm flew in from another part of the labs. "What happened?" he asked. "Where is he? We heard a crash and shouting and... uh... nobody's under attack?" He shook his head and separated into Jefferson and Martin.

"Sorry," Jefferson said. "We kinda thought maybe this new meta showed up again. What's Doctor Allen so mad about?"

Martin glanced at the two assassins and grimaced. "I can only imagine."

Henry whirled to glare at Barry and the two Rogues.

Shawna held up a hand. "Studying to be a doctor. Does that count?"

Henry nodded. "You can stay. But you two...?"

Barry and Mick slunk past the doctor and left without a word, neither wishing to bring his wrath down on them by offering a single protest.

"Well, that was... interesting," Malcolm said once they were all back out of Henry's sight. He snickered.

Joe glared at him. "You _better_ mean the part where we all got thrown out," he said. "Or I _will_ shoot you."

"So what happened?" Barry asked. "What was that all about?"

"Snart took one look at these two," Harry replied, with a nod at Nyssa and Malcolm, "and _completely_ flipped out. Which I'm starting to understand is quite out of character for him, but under the circumstances..."

"And I thought that panic attack about _Wells_ was bad," Joe added. "Bivolo's got his work cut out for him. By the way, did any of you know he could do that? Use his power to calm someone down? I always thought he was all about riling everyone up."

"We, uh... just found that out," Barry replied. "Speaking of finding things out, I don't suppose either of you were in there long enough...?"

"The pretender is very good at pretending," Nyssa replied. "I fear Snart's attacker might be all too familiar with the ways of the League."

"You saw his injuries?" Sara asked. "Already?"

Nyssa shook her head. "No. Not yet. But when he... 'flipped out' as Doctor Wells put it, he was not looking at _us_." She glanced at Malcolm. "He was looking at our outfits. He recognized our gear."

"If we are to examine him," Malcolm added, "we'll have to do so in civilian clothing. And hope that he doesn't recognize us. Not like we were hiding our faces, though; maybe instead we should hope that Bivolo can keep him settled when the time comes." He turned and walked away, only glancing over his shoulder when he reached the door alone. "Coming?" he asked. "Or are we taking turns?"

Oliver nodded at the two female assassins. "Sara can help Nyssa with civilian clothing and get back here quickly. I'll stay here in case this meta shows up."

"Sounds like a plan," Sara replied. She and Nyssa left the labs close behind Malcolm.

"Okay, dude,"Cisco said, "I am seriously scared of your dad right now." He still hadn't lost that dopey grin, but there was an edge of nervousness to his voice.

* * *

 **Point the first: Shawna teleporting Barry and Mick along.  
I don't remember if Shawna could've learned Flash's identity in-canon, but for my headcanon she at least suspects who he is. Teleporting him in there was partly helping Barry purely for the sake of helping the guy who's helping Len, and partly making sure he doesn't have to reveal himself by speeding in there himself.  
Not that the second reason matters for long, as next chapter's convergence between official canon and this alternate version of events has Barry deciding "Screw it" and just letting the Rogues know who he is instead of trying to sneak back and forth between looking in on Len and dealing with the breaches.  
**

 **Point the second: Cisco being afraid of Henry.** **Or more to the point, how I wanted to continue the scene.  
** **That dialogue was _supposed_ to continue with Barry mentioning that he bets Caitlin's just as scared, because of the comment she'd made a couple of chapters back about letting Len die in his sleep... which dialogue is followed up by Mick overhearing and telling the two that an overdose on the medicine wouldn't done anything because those kinds of drugs don't have any effect on Len anyway. Barry and Cisco are shocked and nauseated as they realize this means that Len was awake during the entire operation (or at least until he passed out from the pain), and not merely "until the medicine kicked in."  
** **That version of the dialogue was scrapped, mostly because I'm still working out the mechanics of FF!Len's odd resistance to certain types of drugs. (Current theory is that a local pain killer would work just fine as it numbs the area, but general anesthetics wouldn't because it works by making him _forget_ the pain, and still others fail because they're designed to effectively make him so loopy that he simply doesn't care. Obviously he can't be totally resistant to things that screw with his mind-Darkh likes to play mind control in several of my fics, usually by taking advantage of how Len's temporal illness makes his mind go fuzzy, and Lisa recruited Biv _specifically_ so he could use his power to keep Len calm if necessary-and there are drugs that _have_ to affect him for a critical chapter in one of my fics to work. Thus the necessity of working out those mechanics. But so far I'm getting that he's seriously resistant to drugs that affect his ability to function mentally and, in certain cases, somewhat less resistant to those like Curare that interfere with his ability to function _physically_ , and not nearly as resistant to things that affect the mind via non-chemical sources.)  
**

 **Point the third: Henry throwing out the assassins when he didn't throw Harry out earlier.  
To be fair, none of them knew in the previous chapter that _Harry_ (or rather, Wells) was the reason for Len's panic attack. Had Len not revealed his history with Tess, they would have gone on thinking his panic was due to Cisco's Curare "suggestion" and Henry would have had a _very_ stern word with Cisco as soon as he had the chance. Thus the previous note.**

 **Linked fics:  
Biv finally gets to try out his power on Len, Re the reason Lisa recruited him in the Flash Sideways ficlet "Recruitment Drive."  
**


	12. Three Fronts

**In which timelines converge, Jesse still needs to be rescued from Zoom, and Len's control begins to crack** **.**

 **OOC is Serious Business and all that.**

 **First two sections taken directly from Flash S2E19 "Welcome to Earth-2" and modified as needed to account for the difference in the timeline.  
Some changes in dialogue et al were necessary to incorporate the Rogues and League members, some... not so necessary. And _one_ change means I don't need to work out the timing of the Arrow episodes.**

 **All characters seen or mentioned copyright DC, CW, etc.**

* * *

"29, 28, 27, 26," Cisco counted down. "Come on buddy, just 25 more to go."

Nyssa, clad in blue jeans and a t-shirt, examined a set of x-rays at another computer.

"Any luck with his injuries?" Sara asked.

"Not as such, no," Nyssa replied. "It's rather fascinating, actually. We of the League have always been trained to press on in spite of injuries, to tend to them only as the mission allows or if they imperil our success, but we are no more adept at healing than any other. But this man, Snart... I've never _seen_ anyone recover so quickly." She glanced over to see Leonard watching the monitor over Cisco's shoulder.

The thief looked up to catch her eyes on him, and immediately recoiled. He had barely _stopped_ doing that since Henry had allowed him out of bed.

Nyssa quickly looked away before she risked panicking him again. Fear was a common weapon for the League, but it served no purpose here and would almost certainly interfere with the mission. " _Physically_ recover," she amended. "If Doctor Allen had not provided these documents, I would never have guessed that he had been attacked. Ah, speaking of which... " She glanced at the latest member of their group. "I trust you are recovered as well?"

Thea shrugged. "Still pissed off that you and dad used me as a bargaining chip, but I'll manage."

"Bam!" Cisco called out. "Uh, that's how it's done!"

Thea watched as Barry zipped back into the Cortex, mask down, and tossed the final detonator at Cisco.

"He shoots, he scores!" Cisco said with a laugh.

"Not bad for someone who got a C in gym," Barry said.

"D plus," Caitlin said.

"Straight up F right here," Cisco added.

A smile flickered on Leonard's face.

"I guess maybe I'm a little surprised that you were willing to give Malcolm the Lotus," Thea continued. "Or that he was willing to agree to your suggestion. But with this... _imposter_ lurking around... Enemy of my enemy, right?"

Nyssa scoffed. "Don't be naive," she said. "This cooperation is only temporary. We're not even allies; a common enemy does _not_ make someone a friend."

Thea glanced again at Team Flash and the Rogues.

Shawna and Henry stood together, deep in conversation.

Iris West held one hand out in front of Roy. The metahuman gave her a helpless shrug.

"Idiot." Mick smacked Roy upside the head. "Quit making bets you can't afford to lose. Especially against the ladies." Then he smacked Barry on the shoulder, nearly staggering the speedster, before pushing him towards Leonard with a smile.

It was stress relief, Thea knew, not true camaraderie, but she was impressed just the same.

The only who didn't look happy was Joe, who watched the whole thing with the kind of disapproval that only a parent could manage.

"I'll, uh, try to keep that in mind," Thea said.

"I can't believe it," Leonard said. "You closed _all_ of the breaches? That's impressive, even for you. I sure am glad _I_ didn't bet against Iris."

Barry laughed. "All except the one," he said with a glance at the monitor. "Our last way to Earth-2."

Right on cue, Harry walked into the Cortex. "Ready?"

Leonard's smile vanished.

"Clock's ticking," Harry added.

"It always is," Leonard muttered.

—ALTERNATE UNIVERSE—

"All right, Barry," Jay said as they walked down to the Pipeline. "Listen to me. You're going to go through the looking glass."

Leonard hung on to Jay's every word. The thief wasn't deluding himself; he _knew_ he couldn't do anything to help, couldn't so much as speed the mission along, but he wanted to know every detail he could get about what Barry was about to face.

But Jay's description was... maddeningly vague.

"You're going to see things that look and feel familiar," Jay continued. "But they're not. Up is down, black is white, do _not_ let yourself get sucked in emotionally. And good luck."

"Look," Barry said. He glanced at Leonard before he turned to address Caitlin and Jay. "If we're not back in 48 hours, that means that Zoom has us. If that happens..." He hesitated, looked at Leonard again, and sighed. "You have to close the breach."

A cry of dismay escaped Leonard's throat before he could stop himself.

"We're _not_ going to do that!" Caitlin protested.

" _Barry_..." Leonard winced at the whine he heard in his own voice.

Barry looked straight at Leonard. "Snart, I'm sorry. I know I promised, but..." His shoulders slumped. "If you saw anything of use when this guy attacked you, that'd be one thing. But right now all I can do is wait for Oliver's team to find something. And you know how bad speedsters are at waiting."

Leonard stared at the floor. He _had_ seen something, hadn't he? But he'd been confused, disoriented from hypothermia and blood loss. And even now, knowing that Lisa's life was on the line, the very thought of examining that memory filled him with terror.

Barry clapped one hand on Leonard's shoulder. "These guys are doing everything they can to find Lisa," he said. "They have resources I couldn't even dream of; you couldn't have _asked_ for better allies."

Better allies than _assassins_? Than the same kind of people as the man who'd taken Lisa? "But..." Leonard turned until he could see the other team out of the corner of his eye; Oliver was watching the thief, but he made no effort to interrupt.

"Please, Snart. You _have_ to trust them. If not for your sake, then for Lisa."

"I just..." Leonard forced himself to look at Barry. "Good luck. Go on; go be a hero."

Barry's mouth snapped shut mid-protest. He blinked a few times. "Uh... thanks."

"Go _win_ ," Iris added. "And then come back. We'll be waiting for you."

"You get yourself back here in one piece," Joe said. "All right? Don't make me come get you."

Barry smiled, shook his head, and hugged his adoptive father. "No," he replied.

"I wrote this for my parents and Dante," Cisco told Caitlin. He held out a piece of paper. "If I don't come back, make sure he gets them."

"Cisco, you're coming back," Caitlin said.

"Caitlin, _please_." Tears started to build in the young scientist's eyes.

"Okay. I will."

"Thank you."

Leonard sighed. _Can this_ be _any more depressing?_ He wanted to believe that Barry would come back, that the speedster could help him find and save Lisa, but he'd never been very good at false hope. And their goodbyes, like they knew it'd be forever and just didn't want to admit it... Well, it was certainly important to prepare for the worst, but weren't the good guys supposed to be more optimistic than this?

"Be careful," Caitlin said, as she went from a tearful embrace with Cisco to an equally tearful one with Barry.

"Yeah," Barry replied. "Okay."

Caitlin extracted herself from Barry's arms and walked up to the remaining member of the group. "You too, Harry."

"Snow," Harry replied curtly. He stepped back before she could get any ideas about pulling him into a hug.

Joe caught Harry before he could walk away. "I hope you get your daughter back," the detective said. He shook the scientist's hand.

Harry nodded. "I'll make sure you get your son back," he replied.

Mick stopped Barry before the speedster could approach the breach. "Take care, kid," the arsonist said. "You make sure you get yerself back soon, you hear me? 'Cause if West doesn't come after you, I _will_."

Barry nodded, ducked his head, and joined Harry by the breach.

Harry refused to look at him. "If I didn't know any better," the older man said, "I'd say you were more worried about leaving him behind than he is."

Barry sighed.

"You don't have to do this," Harry said.

"Yeah, I do," Barry replied.

Barry, Cisco, and Harry slowly made their way to the breach.

"Is anybody else feeling panic right now?" Cisco blurted. "I chickened out of bungee jumping when I was 18, but this is categorically a lot scarier."

"Once I turn the speed cannon on," Jay said, "the three of you will be able to pass through unharmed. But Barry, you _need_ to make sure you keep your speed up."

Barry nodded. "Mm-hmm."

Cisco gasped. "I... I got no spit." He worked his mouth several times.

Leonard lifted one eyebrow. "Jaws?"

Cisco turned to glare at him. "I'm not just quoting 'Jaws.' I mean my mouth is really dry right now."

"Bit late for a drink," Leonard drawled.

"It's _never_ too late for a drink," Mick replied.

Leonard shook his head.

"Do _not_ get distracted by anything you see along the way," Jay warned.

Cisco looked at him, wide-eyed. "What are we going to see?"

"Everything," Jay replied.

Barry took a deep breath. "Do it, Jay."

Jay nodded and pulled the lever. The breach lit up with a sound like a rushing wind, with an odd mechanical reverberation to it.

Leonard almost convinced himself he could see something within, but he didn't dare get close enough to be sure.

Barry gripped Cisco and Harry by the shoulders. "Okay," the young speedster said. "Let's go." The three raced into the light and vanished.

Behind them, the machine containing the breach sparked and sizzled.

Caitlin stared in shock.

"What is..." Leonard noticed one of the rings wobbling. "Look out!" he called.

Jay tackled Caitlin to the floor, just in time to avoid being flattened by the ring.

The machinery sparked one last time, and the light died.

"You okay?" Jay asked. He helped Caitlin to her feet.

"Uh, yeah," Caitlin said. "I'm fine."

"What happened?" Leonard asked. "The breach..."

Jay stared at the machinery. "With the rest of the breaches closed, the energy surge to this last remaining breach must have destabilized it."

"Well, what does _that_ mean?" Joe asked.

"As long as it's unstable," Jay said, "Barry and Cisco will be trapped over there." He looked around at the group. "We'd better get to work fixing it. Any volunteers?"

"I don't know much about all this science stuff," Mick said, "but if you need some extra muscle, I'm your man."

"Better get Rathaway first," Leonard said.

Mick nodded. "On it." The arsonist clambered back up the ladder much faster than his size led anyone to expect.

"You should probably get going, too," Leonard told Oliver.

"Are you sure?" Oliver said.

Leonard shrugged. Of course he was sure, even if Barry _did_ say he could trust them.

But that wasn't what Oliver had meant. "Zoom's not taking a vacation while everyone fixes my problems," Leonard replied. "I highly doubt Darkh will be, either."

Oliver nodded. "True. Unfortunately. We'll be back soon. Count on it." He and Sara followed Mick up the ladder.

"Fighting the enemy on three fronts," Thea muttered. "Love _those_ odds."

"That's why I'm leaving part of the League here," Malcolm replied, "under Nyssa's command."

"That bad, huh?" Leonard said.

Malcolm scowled. "If this guy's training is anything like ours, _killing_ him won't be the problem." He turned and started up the ladder.

Leonard gave a start. He stared after the assassin's retreating back.

Did he dare hope...?

But Malcolm's parting words smashed that hope to pieces.

"Making him talk will be."

—ALTERNATE UNIVERSE—

A flurry of activity soon took over the labs, as everyone pitched in, from helping fix the containment device, to keeping tabs on the search for Lisa, to simply preparing a snack when needed.

Everyone, that is, but for one thief.

Leonard had found a spot in the Pipeline where he could sit and stare at the breach and stay out of the way, and there he remained. He barely even blinked when he sensed someone standing over him.

"You do realize," Caitlin said, "when Iris told Barry we'd be waiting for him, she didn't mean you weren't allowed to leave this spot."

Leonard ignored her, preferring the solitude of his personal oblivion. It was easier to face than his current reality, though not easy enough. He envied the people who could find that oblivion at the bottom a bottle, but right now he couldn't even find the energy to drink.

Caitlin crouched to address him as near to face-to-face as his chosen perch allowed.

Leonard managed to turn away.

"Are you doing all right?" she asked. "Do you need me to get Biv down here?"

Leonard slowly shook his head. "No," he murmured. He answered, and answered truthfully, only because that one word took less effort than continuing to pretend that he hadn't heard.

But he had no idea which question he was answering.

He flinched when he felt her hands on his back. But she was gentle as she rubbed his back and shoulders, and he forced himself to relax into the massage.

Caitlin began to hum as she worked her way to his neck. A lullaby, of all things.

The gesture—the _humming_ —was so like moments he'd shared with Lisa, one of the ways the siblings coped whenever Lewis invaded their lives. It broke the last shred of Leonard's control, and he wept.

* * *

 **Couldn't decide whether it should be Iris or Caitlin in this last scene, but I finally decided that the person with medical experience would have a better idea of what kind of physical (and especially emotional) therapy, and how much, is good for Len at the moment... as opposed to Iris possibly accidentally hurting him.**

 **Linked fics:  
** **Once again, the reference to using Biv to help Len is the whole reason he was recruited in the Flash Sideways recruitment arc.**

 **And this arc is done. The story is far from over, obviously-I need to show how Team Flash and the Rogues deal with things during Barry's absence, not to mention the ongoing search for Lisa-but I think this is a good stopping point so I can** _try_ **to focus on my original fiction for the duration of this month, November 2017, for NaNoWriMo. Wish me luck?**

 **And speaking of my original works, visit either my blog "Pioneers of the Shattered Waters" or my deviantArt account "SideQuestPublication" if you'd like to check out my writing and NaNo-ing progress.**


	13. Memories

**Otherwise known as that chapter that includes a "data dump" style flashback because of plot reasons.**

 **In which Team Flash and the Rogues work together to repair the breach, while "Jay" disappears into the background to help deal with the Geomancer. And Ollie tries to persuade Len to remember the attack via meditation.**

 **Still takes place during Flash S2E19 "Welcome to Earth-2".**

 **All characters seen or mentioned copyright DC, CW, etc.**

* * *

Leonard slumped in his usual perch above the Pipeline, waiting for something, _anything_ , to convince him that they actually had a chance. For the last fifteen minutes he'd watched as two of his Rogues, Roy and Shawna, struggled to take Nyssa down.

Mick waited near the combatants, watching for a chance to tackle the assassin, while Thea watched from a perch similar to the thief's own.

They battled it out within the Pipeline itself—with the repairs going on nearby, and Jay and Joe's argument upstairs, the tunnel was the only place big enough for the fight without the risk of damaging important equipment. And yet, even with Shawna's teleportation, she and Roy were losing.

Badly.

Oliver gave a piercing whistle that made Leonard clap his hands over his ears but did nothing to make the fighters hesitate.

" _Ow_ ," Thea muttered. She pointed to her left ear. "Can you do that again, Ollie? I think I can still hear on this side."

The archer shook his head. "Nyssa!" he called. "Mind giving them a break? I may need to borrow the Rainbow Raider."

Nyssa threw Roy once more, then sheathed her sword.

"You, too, Snart," Oliver said. "But don't get too comfy; you're joining them down there soon enough. So I hope you've memorized Nyssa's moves better than you did your attacker's."

" _Great_ ," Leonard muttered. In truth, he'd barely watched Nyssa at all—not that there was much to watch, with the Rogues' limited skills making the fight all too simple for the assassin. But he wanted nothing to do with her, with _any_ of them, and he'd spent half the fight with his eyes squeezed shut lest the very sight of Nyssa's "moves" trigger another panic attack.

He couldn't imagine _how_ he was supposed to learn to defend himself from these people.

"So what do you want?" Leonard asked. Whatever it was, it had to be better than fighting an assassin.

Assuming Oliver didn't plan to test the thief himself. Leonard shuddered.

"We're going to try something different," Oliver replied. He held out a candle. "You'll probably find it a little weird, but I believe this will give us results."

Leonard looked at the candle and lifted one eyebrow. "A candle? _Really_? You know, Ollie, if you're saying I stink, there are easier ways to make me take a shower."

Oliver smirked. "If I was saying you stink, I'd just throw you into the bay," he said. He nodded down at the combatants. "Like so."

Mick had taken advantage of the interruption to grab Nyssa from behind, but with a duck and a twist the assassin quickly laid him out on the floor next to Roy.

"And don't call me Ollie."

Leonard sighed. "Okay, fine. What's the candle for, Ollie?"

Thea snickered.

Oliver scowled. "You're going to tell us _exactly_ what happened when this metahuman attacked you," he replied. "Every detail."

Leonard shuddered again. "I've already told you," he said, a tremor sneaking into his voice, "I _can't_ —"

"Can't remember, I know. That's what the candle is for. I'm going to help you remember."

"The League _has_ treatments for that," Nyssa said.

Leonard yelped and jumped back... straight into the wall. He shook for a good twenty-six seconds before he found his voice again. "Could you people _not_ sneak up on me?"

"My apologies," Nyssa said. "I _am_ trying not to frighten you, though I admit I am not accustomed to the necessity, nor particularly adept at it. And I imagine your assailant will not offer you the same courtesy."

Leonard couldn't tell whether she was genuinely apologizing or being patronizing, but he finally decided it didn't matter. It wasn't her fault he was so jumpy, after all. Even though she was a League assassin. And it wasn't exactly fair for him to expect everyone to tiptoe around him, not when the very skills that frightened him so badly might be the only thing to save Lisa.

She glanced at Oliver. "We have the supplies. The League's treatments would be far more effective than... _that_."

Oliver shook his head. "Under the circumstances, I don't think introducing _more_ drugs to his system would be a good idea. Nor do I think that Doctor Allen would appreciate the suggestion."

Nyssa winced at the mention of the doctor.

"Besides, someone with an eidetic memory shouldn't need anything as strong as one of the League's truth serums," Oliver continued. He gazed sidelong at Leonard and muttered, "Shouldn't need any help remembering at all."

"He'll need to remain calm for your method to work," Nyssa pointed out. "That would be quite the challenge under the circumstances, even if he wasn't frightened of us."

"That's what the Rainbow Raider is for," Oliver replied.

"Okay," Roy said, climbing the ladder to join them. "What do you need me to do, Ollie?"

" _Don't call me Ollie_ ," Oliver growled.

Roy shrugged and winced. "Ow. I think I pulled something. Don't call me Rainbow Raider. If we have to work together, I think we can stand to be a little less formal."

"I once had a partner named Roy," Oliver snapped. "Do you honestly think I want to call you that?"

"Then call me 'Biv' if my name bothers you so much," Roy said. "It's what my friends call me."

"Nyssa had at least one thing right," Oliver replied. "Having a common enemy does _not_ make us friends." He glared at Leonard. "If Barry wasn't in danger, I wouldn't even be here. If you want me to be able to help, then you _need_ to be ready to do exactly what I tell you. Is that understood?"

Thea grimaced. "Sorry, Snart," she said. "My brother's, uh, _pep talks_ ," she spat the phrase with a glare at Oliver, "take a little getting used to."

"Who said anything about a pep talk?" Oliver asked. "He needs to know this is serious—"

" _Pretty_ sure he's already figured that out," Thea snapped.

Oliver shook his head. "So are you coming, Snart?"

"Sure thing, Ollie," Leonard mumbled.

Oliver continued to glower.

" _Oliver_ ," Leonard corrected himself.

—ALTERNATE UNIVERSE—

Oliver led the two Rogues deeper into the labs, down below the Pipeline to where Eobard Thawne once had his lair.

"Not the most ideal environment to meditate," Oliver admitted, "but we need the quiet." He sat down and lit the candle in front of him. "Sit. Try to make yourself comfortable."

Leonard nodded and sat down, crossed-legged, across from Oliver.

"Sit up a little straighter," Oliver said.

"I thought you said 'comfortable,'" Leonard muttered.

"I don't want you falling asleep on me," Oliver replied.

"No fear of that," Leonard said, but he straightened up as instructed.

"We're not going to hold hands and sing _kumbaya_ , are we?" Roy asked. "Because I have a terrible singing voice. I think I'd be a lot more help as Nyssa's training dummy."

"Not exactly," Oliver said. "Can you make sure he stays calm? Even with his eyes closed?"

"I've never done it that way," Roy admitted. "If I use my power on him now, before you start, it should last a good long while. But once I lose eye contact I may not be able to do any more." He frowned. "I mean, I could _try_ , but now isn't really…."

"Isn't the time to experiment," Oliver finished. "Do it now, then. And stick close in case he needs you again."

"This has got to be the weirdest part about working with you," Leonard muttered as Roy crouched next to him.

"No arguments there," Roy said. "Now shush so I can concentrate."

Leonard met Roy's gaze and watched with curiosity as those dark irises brightened in color, transforming into a light blue that nearly matched the thief's own eyes. As the color spread into the metahuman's pupils—and washed out Leonard's vision—the thief felt an itching in his head.

 _Like someone rummaging around in my brain_. Was that how Roy's power normally felt? A little sloppy, maybe, but so subtle that he'd never noticed it before.

"It helps if some part of you already feels the emotion," Roy explained, "so I can find it and enhance it. So whatever you're thinking, keep thinking it."

"I'm thinking that I'd like to know how your power can affect me like that." The tension slowly drained out of the thief, and he finally relaxed.

Roy shrugged. "Yeah... I'd like to know that, too. Especially..."

" _Shit!_ " Oliver leapt from his seated position and grabbed Roy before the metahuman could topple over onto the candle. "Er, have you use your power, _then_ light the candle. Are you okay? I didn't realize it would take this much out of you."

"Me... neither," Roy panted. He was drenched in sweat. "He's very... resistant." Oliver led him to the wall so the metahuman could rest.

"Is that going to be enough?" Oliver asked.

Leonard blinked several times, but the blue haze remained in his vision. "It will have to be," he replied. "It doesn't look like Biv will be using his power again for a while." He felt a brief stab of guilt that he couldn't _show_ his worry for his friend, but he quickly stifled that guilt by reminding himself that the metahuman's power was at work. The fear remained, strong enough to cloud his memory of the attack, meaning Roy's power alone was not enough. But it no longer interfered with his ability to simply _think_. "This might actually work."

Oliver dropped back into place across from the thief, adjusted the candle, and nodded. "Then let's begin. We're going to find the hidden truths, deep in your subconscious. Clear your thoughts. Close your eyes. Focus on your breathing."

 _In through the nose_... A prickle of fear. And no metahuman, now, to maintain eye contact.

 _Out through the mouth_... The breathing exercise was similar to what he did during a panic attack. He could do this. He _had_ to.

"You're floating in nothingness," Oliver continued to murmur. "All that exists is your breath. Your thoughts are clouds, drifting away."

"I remember," Leonard said. "I remember when _he_ showed up."

"What did he do?"

"It was... cold. Too cold, even for this time of year. The floor was a sheet of ice. I thought he'd hurt Lisa, so I tried to shoot him. But he controlled the ice from my gun, even stopped ordinary bullets. I tried to tackle him, and I managed to pull off his hood before he knocked me out."

"Pulled off his hood?" Roy muttered. "You _saw_ him?"

"Shush," Oliver muttered. "This needs to happen naturally; we don't want to lead him, not yet. You said the assassin knocked you out. What happened next?"

"When I came to, I was trapped in a cage of ice. It was sharp, like knives. I couldn't get free, not without seriously injuring myself. He..." Leonard frowned. "He was disappointed. Said he'd hoped I could give him a better fight before he killed me. He picked Lisa up and went upstairs. But when I followed him, he was alone." He was breathing faster now, nearly panting.

"Easy... _Easy_. It's just a memory," Oliver said. "You're safe now. It isn't happening again."

"I know that, but..." Leonard took a deep breath to steady himself. "He stabbed me with the sword. I tried to dodge it, but all I did was make it worse; the tip was broken off when he pulled it out. I could feel my blood freezing, could see it cutting through my skin. I knew if I continued fighting him alone, I'd die before I could help Lisa. I had to get out of there."

"So you called the Flash," Oliver said.

Leonard nodded. "I don't know how I got away—I mean, I remember running, but he should've been able to kill me before I reached the front door—but yes. As soon as I thought I had enough distance, I called the Flash." He opened his eyes. "You know the rest."

"All right, we're going to try that again." The candle wick had burnt low and nearly went out in the melted wax. Oliver tipped it on its side to let the melted wax drain off before returning it to its original position. "But this time, we're going to visit a specific part of that memory. You said you pulled off his hood before he knocked you out. We need to know what you saw when you came to. Now again, clear your thoughts, close your eyes..."

 _In through the nose... out through the mouth._

"All that exists is your breath. Your thoughts are drifting away..."

"When I came to, there was ice all around me. Knives of it, spears of it, all pressed into my skin. I could barely move without seriously injuring myself. When I could finally face him, he had picked Lisa up. He said she was sleeping, that she would wake up when he allowed her to. He said he would never hurt her."

"His hood...?" Oliver prompted.

"The hood had fallen off. He was... he was..." Leonard shook his head. "I can't..." His voice shook.

"You can do this. What does he look like? That's all we need to know."

"He..." Leonard gasped. "I... I can't. I can't!"

"Yes, you can, Snart. Just tell me what you saw."

" _I can't!_ " Leonard cried out.

His chest hurt; he couldn't breathe!

 _In through the… In. In!_

Lisa needed him; why couldn't he remember? Why couldn't he _breathe_?

And why was it so cold…?

"Snart!"

"Boss!"

Leonard began to sob, his protests blending together in an incoherent moan.

He dimly felt someone tugging at his arms, trying to pull him up from where he'd curled up on the floor.

"Come on, boss," Roy pleaded, "look at me. It's going to be all right, I promise we'll figure this out. But right now you've got to _look_ at me!"

"I can't," Leonard moaned again. "I _can't_."

* * *

 **Ah, the 2018 Barrowman Writing Workshop has been done for a couple of months now and, while I'm still trying to commit to finishing my original fics for publication, I am finally continuing my fanfics!**

 **Re: "Ollie" vs "Oliver"  
After seeing a preview from Legends season 3 that had Earth X's "Leo" calling Oliver "Ollie" (followed immediately by "Don't call me Ollie"), I've been wanting to find a good spot to have Len mess with Ollie in the exact same way. But... my stories being what they are, I didn't have many good places where Len and Ollie met _and_ Len being a PITA purely for the sake of using his own brand of humor would actually fit, so in this chapter you have Len ragging on him (and Thea encouraging him to do so) as a form of stress relief.  
Ollie seems to be the only one who's missed the memo that it's potentially helpful.  
**

 **Re: Biv's power drain  
I don't know how Biv's power works either, but the fic is operating under the assumption that it affects the "victim's" brain similarly enough to drugs that Len's odd resistance to mind-altering substances (as per my Majummed head-canon that will be explained in other fics) also makes him resistant to that power.  
Not _as_ resistant (drugs that work directly on the central nervous system or effectively "trick" the brain into affecting Len's thoughts a certain way don't affect him at all, whereas non-drug "powers" like Biv's, and drugs that work in other ways have limited results). But still resistant.  
But the team doesn't know that yet. It'll come up later. Probably.**


End file.
